#which caused her to double down and be herself to the fullest

[starlooove]

On the note of some of y’all wanting confident characters to always have some secret insecurity sometimes the mean tough as nails bitch is just a mean tough as nails bitch

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 12 - the brief moment

12 days - 12 oneshots | a collection of oneshots to celebrate royai

rated: g | words: 639

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“Did you ever envision we’d be doing something like this?”

“Honestly? No.”

Riza turned her face so her cheek was pressed even tighter against Roy’s shoulder. She already knew she’d cherish this moment close to her heart for her remaining days to come and wanted to enjoy and experience it to its fullest. She inhaled deeply, remembering the scent of him and how it enveloped her wholly. Comforted her. Made her feel safe.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be granted a gift such as this. Or a gift such as you.”

Riza felt her whole body warm with his affection.

“Neither did I.”

His fingertips skated lightly up Riza’s upper arm, causing goosebumps to erupt over her skin. She shivered as he tickled her. Roy seemed to notice as well. He paused in his movement for a fraction of a second, then continued onwards as if nothing were amiss as Riza continued to twitch and squirm beneath his touch.

He finally laughed and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Sorry,” he breathed into her hair.

“Don’t be,” Riza replied. “It’s not often we can touch each other so freely.”

“So you torture yourself with it?”

Riza nodded, causing him to laugh again.

“I understand. But if I make you uncomfortable, you have to tell me.”

“Never uncomfortable.”

Roy froze at the double meaning between Riza’s words as she shifted to curl herself even tighter around him. Roy likened her to a cat.

“Ah,” he replied. That was all. He understood her desire but wouldn’t act on it. Not now. Not in the peace of the moment they could enjoy together. Not in this reprieve. It would come, but they had time.

They didn’t have all the time in the world, but they had tonight.

And he intended to make use of every single minute of it.

“Is it wrong of me to wish I could remain like this forever?”

Roy knew what she was asking. He understood.

“I wish I could keep you here, like this, for the rest of my life.”

The pair lapsed into silence for a long time. Roy returned to stroking his hand up and down her arm, this time with a firmer touch so he didn’t tease and tickle. So they could both enjoy lying against one another and relish in the hold of the other for the brief moment of time they had.

“We’ve got this one night,” Riza whispered into the silent evening.

“We do.” Roy pressed a kiss against the top of her head.

“That’s enough for me.”

“That’s enough for me,” Roy echoed back to her quietly, turning his face into her hair. He inhaled deeply, letting the smell of her shampoo wash over him, envelop him, as he committed it to memory.

And he knew, in this moment, the memory of this night would carry him until the end of his days. He’d cherish it, revel in it in those quiet moments to himself, just as he would his love for Riza Hawkeye. He’d carry that love with him forever at least, always committed to her.

He wouldn’t wish for more. Not in this life. But he like to think somewhere out there, some version of him got the life he so desperately, selfishly, desired.

In the distance, in the dead of night, a church bell tolled, signalling it had turned midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Riza Hawkeye. I cannot imagine this life without you by my side.”

She curled against him. One of her hands clutched at the fabric of his shirt. Right above his heart. Her fingers curled around his dog tags, gripping onto the wedding band she’d looped through the chain for him years ago.

The same one which matched the ring on Riza’s dog tags.

“Merry Christmas, Roy Mustang. You have me in everything.”

kudos and kind comments are always appreciated :)

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feel free to send me an ask too!

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

           Ruby Lee, a 29 year old daughter of Emma-O.            She is currently unemployed.

FC NAME/GROUP:  Wendy ; Red Velvet CHARACTER NAME: Ruby Lee AGE/DATE OF BIRTH:  February 21, 1994 PLACE OF BIRTH: Berlin, Germany OCCUPATION:  Unemployed HEIGHT: 159 cm (5’3″) WEIGHT: 47 kg DEFINING FEATURES: Known for wearing a large ruby necklace and ruby earrings no matter the outfit.

PERSONALITY:  What was once a naive and soft girl has changed into a rebellious and commanding woman. She is playful, and with powers that allow her financial freedom, she is finding ways to live her life at the fullest while creating her circle that she can genuinely trust. Despite all Ruby has gone through, she is a kind and caring woman.  However after spending so much of her life putting others first, she is finally out there trying to live a fun and fulfilling life after wasting so much time chasing the love of a fake family. She puts her needs and desires before all else, and at times, that can clash with the needs of others and her friendships. Ruby's desire to solely seek fun has led her to be hard to settle down, to struggle to take much too seriously.

HISTORY: Ruby's entry into the world came to her mother as a calamity, a burden she could not carry. The young woman was far from ready to take the reigns of motherhood, and without the mysterious father around, she was desperate for some relief from the sweet child. She had hid the pregnancy from her parents even to the end, giving birth in a backstreet clinic with the sole intention to free herself of the child in exchange of the medical care.

Leaving the child to the devices of the shady doctor, the baby would be sent off for auctions, but she would never make it to the delivery. Instead, she would fall into the hands of a ringmaster named Draven after a bad run-in with the men tasked with the child.. Owner of a wildly popular traveling circus, the male was not quite sure what to do with the child, but he saw the potential source of free labor as she aged for his growing circus. And, the girl would grow up nameless for the first part of her childhood, mainly known as 'child.' She was barely cared for and over worked at such a young age. Yet as she approached the double digits, her powers seemed to finally kick in, and in front of Draven, the demigoddess would change a rock to a Ruby. From there, with a newly established worth, the child received her name.

With the money potential of her powers, Drave took the barely cared for child and gave her the world. He hired tasked some staff to train her in performance and hired a tutor to teach her on their travels. The handfuls of gems that started to fill his pockets made it a worthwhile investment. To provide her with the false security of love, he never would have to worry about his new cash cow leaving his sight. The young girl soaked up the new found attention, found ways to forgive his past attitude to celebrate the new. She had always wanted him to love her, to be a father. After years of being told to be grateful of his kindness, she finally saw it though only through rose-colored glasses, ignoring all the pangs from her intuition.  

As Ruby grew, she took to her studies well, and she became known for talents in all types of aerial performance, from trapeze to the silks. She started to perform on the nightly shows, and she understood why so many of the company put up with Draven's harsh rules. The thrill that came with her performances were unbeatable, and for a few years, she managed to soak up that thrill. However, as Draven's thirst for riches grew, he took her from the air and forced her to complete magic shows in which he made a spectacle of her powers while feeding that same greed.

And while Ruby had grown used to the the energy needed to create those gems, the way the use of her powers now consumed her daily activities caused her to become less and less able to do anything but her act. She would spend all other moments asleep or drained, barely able to complete normal activities. Other members of the company noticed Ruby's exhaustion, and the group grew concerned despite Draven's blinded reassurances. He spoke that she owed this to him, and she appeared fine. But, his riches were all he could truly see.

Ruby would just suffer in silence, but the crowd soon could tell the poor demigoddess's suffering. One evening, a certain crowd member decided to take action. Draven, though he did a great job running the circus, was known for troublesome dealings and a constant lapse in morality. And to punish the male from his transgressions, a normal night would transform into a blaze of flame. As Draven would meet his end and the rest of the company would escape in a panic, a certain crowd member would take the demigoddess and leave a large wad of cash and a note directing her to the island.

As the demigoddess finally came too, the abrupt change of her reality was a shocking one, but she immediately felt a sense of freedom. After being the loving daughter, she left one broken, used. Her desperate need for love and kindness left her a gem creating zombie, filling the pockets of a narcissist and to be a spectacle to a sea of heartless crowd-goers. Ruby felt something change in her that day. For a woman who spent so long naïve and obedient, she wanted the exact opposite, allowing herself to finally chase and pursue any taste of fun. And for Ruby, the island was the best start.

PANTHEON: Japanese CHILD OF: Emma-O POWERS: Ruby is capable of transforming small stones into the prettiest gems, and for her, it is an easy task that she does mindfully. However, after extension transformation or transforming medium size stones, it can cause her exhaustion and fatigue. Ruby also has powers of intuition. However, she had struggled with trusting these cues due to various reasons. STRENGTHS: Fun-loving, Kind, Talented WEAKNESSES: Trust issues, Hedonistic, Impatience

[offbranddrpepsi]

Can you plz do angst HCs for Killjoy, Reyna & Skye? Thx in advance!!! Love your writing btw!

Absolutely! i got two of these so this will cover both

Killjoy is entirely oblivious to the fact that she was practically milked for talent. When the other agents try to tell her or accuses her of being a willing/knowing participant she gets incredibly sad as well as confused. This has started creating self confidence issues for her as well as increased the amount of escapism she pursues.

When ever she thinks another agent is about to be killed or severely injured she looks away so she doesn't have to mentally process she just watched her friend die. She will wait guarding their body until Sage can revive them and will absolutely never leave their side unless she has to

There are many nights she doesn't sleep very much if at all. This is due to her frequently overworking herself past the point of exhaustion into a state of delirium. During these moments she often has harsh hallucinations of her friends calling out for her to help them or brief moments where she slips out of consciousness only to be met with nightmares of her machines killing everyone.

She deeply worries what she does isn't good/worth it but she doesn't have anything else to fall back on so she continues.

Reyna often takes on the big sister role towards the younger radiant agents to fill the hole her sister has left in her life. She partially feels guilty for it but also thinks her sister would want her to help other young radiants.

Deep inside her she knows her sister probably wont make it or, if she does, her life wouldn't be lived to the fullest. Because of this she has entirely shut down her own life outside of serving her community, caring for her sister, and helping young radiants. There was a point where she wanted a family of her own, wanted to pursue other things, but those all vanished once kingdom intervened in her life. She feels if she can be dedicated enough to her cause as well as her sister then it was all worth it and that, even if the odds aren't in her favor, her sister may yet survive and get to live the life she has given up.

As long as her sister gets to live without struggle or strife Reyna would do anything, this includes giving up her own life as a free woman or dying.

Her family, except for her sister, died once kingdom tore her village apart. This is also the event that awakened her radiant powers as she went on a rampage due to grief. She doesn't entirely remember what happened but other agents, such as Viper, do which has invoked a just fear. All she knows was that day started happy and ended in so much blood being scattered across her home.

Skye grew up living remotely which she is mildly self conscious about due to her inability to understand some common things. She plays it off to keep it from getting to her too much but when she's alone and having trouble she tears up due to frustration.

She feels horribly having to kill her double due to knowing that both their hearts fight for the same cause, to protect their homes. She fears one day she may know the full story of why they want to steal her earth's radianite and that she will agree with them.

Skye is not stranger to getting hurt and being in a pinch. More often than not she doesn't tell her team she's injured and just deals with it her own, be that putting a bone by in place or patching her self up. Because of this she is dull to pain which results in her thinking shes not "soft" anymore.

She hates killing people and can only deal with the guilt by finding a way to justify it even if the reason doesn't make sense.

Her need to work out and keep in shape comes from a fear of dying or letting someone else die due to not being good enough. When she was young she had to rough it A LOT which only got worse once first light occured. Her life has nearly come to an end numerous times and she, regrettably, has resulted in others deaths due to not being good enough.

light angst/just kinda sad: she isn't properly educated past at most middle school. Her entire education was limited due to where she lived and at one point she was some what home schooled some what thrown into the world and expected to learn.

[finrays]

A day late because I was celebrating my birthday, it’s 2) Scientific!

Spooky throws me a prompt tailor-made for Lis, I do Not Lis. Makes total sense.

“I must inform you, Mr. Vanguardsman, Mr. Seeker, that this test does not pass scientific rigor.”

Tying off the latest piece of rope he’s employed in holding the rickety structure together, Varl gives her a patient smile.

“It’s ok, GAIA. It’s just for fun.”

Despite his height, Erend has to stand on the balls of his feet to favor GAIA with a grin of his own over their ramshackle “experiment’s” top.

“Yeah, nothing for the scholars. We just wanna see what will happen.”

What will happen, GAIA thinks to herself, is nothing good. But she can’t bring herself to quash their enthusiasm. Instead, she surreptitiously double-checks the fire suppressant system, and keeps her concerns to herself.

For the better part of an hour, the pair continues their labors, checking, double checking, arguing good-naturedly with each other when they hit snags, and adding more and more complexity to the rickety structure as they go.

Finally, seemingly satisfied, Varl stands, brushing off his hands and nodding to himself as he surveys the device.

“All right. I think that’s all of it. Ready on that end, Erend?”

Reaching out to wrap a length of twine around his hand and wrist, Erend gives him a thumbs-up gesture, arm extended to its fullest to bring the finger into view around the device.

“Let’s light it up!”

With a flourish, he gives the twine a sharp pull. The tug yanks a small wooden block out of the mechanism, which releases a handful of ball bearings, scavenged presumably from rogue terraformers, to escape down a channel carved from the stalk of a plant. Each one drops in turn into a tiny basket, adjusting the weight and causing the twine attached to their handles to pull on more pieces of the device, shifting and turning and lighting little stores of biofuel in places that make GAIA want to flinch, despite her lack of a body.

The end result of the complex mechanism is both terrifying and utterly unimpressive, all at once; a small wooden ball, seated on a platform at the foot of the chain, is lit aflame with a drip of burning Blaze, and launched unceremoniously across the room toward a clay pot situated on a large X-shape scratched onto the floor with chalky stone. The contents burst into flame, and the pair lets out a whoop, slapping each other on the back and clasping their hands excitably at the sight.

Their enthusiasm is infectious, and GAIA finds the prompt for a smile running before she’s really aware she’s begun running it.

I suppose, she thinks, even if it doesn’t pass rigor… I’ve drawn an important conclusion today.

That having human friends may be… detrimental to the well-being of the facility, but…

Ultimately… worth it.

[nationalharryleague]

Ivy: Chapter One - Incandescent Glow

A/N: Chapter One is here!! I’m so excited to share this with you all and I hope you enjoy it!! You can find the rest of my writing in my masterlist and I would love love love to hear what you think about it in my ask! Thank you so much for reading I hope you enjoy it!! 

Word Count: 6.5k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Pinterest Board

Before their paths had crossed, she had resigned herself to an existence void of the excitement, passion, and the simple enjoyment of a life in love that she consumed every day in her books. Their worn and yellowed pages held stories of adventure, mystery, and her personal favorite, romance, etched onto pages that held the ability to transport the novel’s reader. She turned to their worn leather binding as a way to escape her own dismal and boring life, living vicariously through star crossed lovers, double agent spies, and explorers who had set out to find the fountain of youth.

The tall tales were never enough to fill the void or tame her desire to escape, but they placed a temporary bandage on the wound she would rather keep covered.

She spent most of her time among her books, curled into the small pink velvet couch that sat next to the large fireplace, immersing herself into the words on the page and the silence that surrounded her, as she reveled in the warmth of the open flame. The library was the one place in the large estate that felt like a home to her. Books lined the walls, placed carefully into floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Most of them had been read through already, patiently awaiting their turn to be picked up once again for her to experience another journey through their pages.

She chased a homey solace within those four walls, a comfortability she could never obtain anywhere else on her husband’s large estate. The mansion was a massive stone fortress that sat on acres of land she had never been granted permission to fully explore. The greatest freedom allowed to her were the well mannered and dignified walks she took around the garden, sometimes a trip to the small stream that ran across the edge of the property with a book tucked into her basket; but as winter fell, as it always did, she was forced back into her library.

Snow fell gently outside, covering the large and manicured lawns with a bright white blanket of quiet, but her concentration and tranquility were startled away from her when three too loud knocks fell onto the large mahogany door. She knew the knocks well, and exactly who they belonged to. They were the only ones that ever seemed to disturb her.

“Dear,” she heard her husband, William, call through the door. “May I come in?” He was boring and overbearing, but he was always polite when it came to her library. She could give him that.

“Of course,” she hummed in a slight annoyance, hearing the door swing open with a creak, as she tucked her bookmark into Gulliver’s Travels’ well loved pages. It was hard for her to tear her eyes from the book, not yet fully out of the story land she had been consumed by for hours now, but when she did, she was met with two men instead of one.

“I wanted to introduce you to the new groundskeeper, Mr. Styles.” William spoke far too loud for her quiet room and in his usual dull tone, which was somehow made even more boring by the beautiful man standing next to him.

Mr. Styles was striking. 

He had chocolate brown curls that fell in tousled waves pushed back from his forehead and vibrant green eyes that zeroed in on her with an intense but friendly gaze. A polite smile graced his pink lips which caused a pair of dimples to ghost over his cheeks, softening his rather imposing large figure.

He was tall and had broad shoulders and muscular arms that didn’t completely fit into his vest and suit jacket, and she could tell he was uncomfortable in such formal dress. He stood perfectly straight up and down, like any sudden movements might bust him out of the most likely hand me down outfit, and his slightly awkward appearance made it difficult for her to fight off a more than friendly smile.

She moved towards him, the pink roses embroidered on the delicate white fabric of her dress falling down around her as she stood from the couch, and with a greeting knod of her head, she extended her hand towards him to delicately shake. His hands were frozen as he took her hand and bowed his head to her, a side effect of the snow blanketing the ground outside, but they were also strong and calloused.

Their contact shot a spark up her arm, assuredly from the cold of his fingertips.

“It’s delightful to meet you, Mr. Styles,” she spoke with a soft but confident voice, bowing her own head towards him gently as he released her hand.

“Thank you for having me, Lady Taylor,” he spoke smoothly, with a deep and musical voice, his sharp jaw brushing against the starched high fabric of his collar. She liked the way he spoke and made a note to make sure she heard more of it in the future.

She hoped she had controlled her face and didn’t outwardly cringe when he called her by her formal title and her husband’s last name. It was an identifier she deeply loathed, representative of all she had become. She looked forward to whenever they got a moment away from her husband and she could ask him to call her Y/N, similar to moments she had in the past with all of the staff in the mansion.

“Of course,” she smiled. “We’re glad to have you.”

“He’ll be staying in the cottage on the east side of the property,” William informed her, bringing her attention back to him.

“That is the one near the stream with the ivy on it, if I’m not mistaken. Correct?” she directed her question towards her husband, toeing the line of an appropriate amount of small talk, while also encouraging the conversation to move fast so she could return to her book.

“That’s the one,” the dull man answered with a nod. “I’m going to show him to it now. I wanted to introduce him because you might be seeing him around the estate.” He paused, stepping closer to her and she felt her muscles tense slightly. “We wouldn’t want you getting startled by a stranger, now would we, darling?”

“No, we wouldn’t,” she answered with a tight lipped smile. She could never get used to his patronizing tone, even after three years as his wife. With a deep breath, she steeled herself as he got even closer, reaching his hand out and pushing a curl that had fallen from her gathered bun at the base of her neck behind her ear, then pressing a kiss to her cheek that lasted far too long to be in front of a guest. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment and she watched as Mr. Styles’ gained an uncomfortable blush to his as well.

With a patch of dampness still clinging to her cheek, William backed away and returned to their new guest’s side.

“It was lovely to meet you,” the new man said, a seemingly sympathetic look in his eye. “Your library is beautiful.”

His complement of her books brought a hint of joy back to her features. “Thank you very much. If you ever need anything to read, I may have something you could borrow,” she chuckled, raising her hand to gesture towards the rows and rows of books. “I can only read so many at a time.”

“I will keep that in mind,” he said, his lips perking up in a sideways smile that showed off one of his dimples.

William left the room without anything else to say, Mr. Styles following soon after, but for some reason she could not shake the sound of his voice and the look of his dimple from her mind. Even when she settled back down next to the fire, knees tucked up beneath her and Gulliver’s Travels back in her hands, his face remained. She found herself rereading sentences two or three times before comprehending them, her focus lost to the handsome man who was now living in the small ivy covered cottage. She was intrigued.

A few days passed before she saw him again.

Once again, he had roused her from a book while she read, making an awful scraping noise as he tried to remove the ice hanging from the outdoor windowsill of her library. He must have been watching her through the window because when her head shot up to investigate the noise, he already held an apologetic look in his eyes and mouthed ‘I’m sorry!’ to her through the window. He looked quite cute like that and she couldn’t help but release a laugh.

She decided to abandon the epic love story she had been consuming, choosing to focus on another object of interest as she moved towards the large window and opened it. A frigid wind seemed to slap her in the face, making her realize just how red his nose was. She could only guess how cold he was and how long he had been scraping ice off the house in only a flimsy wool coat.

“I am so sorry I disturbed you, Lady Taylor,” he profusely apologized, but she only smiled in return.

“No trouble at all,” she shook her head. “And please call me Y/N. I’m only Lady Taylor in front of my husband.”

His face held a slight surprise, obviously unfamiliar with such a casual relationship with his bosses. “Oh, alright then, Y/N.” He held a shy grin on his face as he looked up at her through the window, extending a hand for her to shake. “Well then, call me Harry.”

Harry, she repeated to herself. It suited him. She liked his name and the way his strong jaw and pink lips moved when he said it.

Their hands met in a less formal handshake this time, her body hanging halfway out the window into the cold to reach him. The same shocks made their way up her arm again and she blamed them on his frozen hand.

“Harry,” she started, liking the way his name felt on her lips. “You seem like you are about to freeze to death out there. Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea?”

She knew her husband wouldn’t be home for at least another hour, a result of meticulously monitoring his schedule for the last three years in an effort to appreciate her limited freedom to its fullest. William was a creature of habit, spending every Wednesday across the county with his younger brother in his own massive home; allowing her time to relax, no longer held to the absurdly formal high standards her husband held for ‘the lady of the house.’ And today, she decided she could exercise that freedom by inviting Harry in for tea.

“I couldn’t,” he tried to politely deny, bound by strict rules of etiquette in ‘high society,’ whatever that meant.

“I insist. You look frost bitten.”

When he nodded his head in concession, she couldn’t help the bright and triumphant smile that stretched across her features.

It wasn’t long before she was leading him through the massive home towards the servants quarters and her favorite part of the mansion: the kitchen. As they walked, they moved under ornate arches and impressively high ceilings, passing walls decorated with portraits of her husband’s dead relatives that seemed to judge the two commoners as they passed. She assumed her husband hadn’t given Harry a tour of the main house, as every time she snuck a peak at him, his eyes were wide in amazement at the lavish home.

The deep maroon satin fabric of her dress flowed behind her as she led him down winding hallways and past massive grand staircases. The grandiose decorations and atmosphere began to dwindle as they made their way to the servants quarters, the house taking on a much more bare-bones look. The hallways were smaller and left a pale white, a stark contrast to the brightly colored walls that lived in the rest of the house.

He followed her down a small spiral staircase that opened into a kitchen that emitted a welcoming warmth the rest of the sterile house lacked. A large stone fireplace was set into the wall to their right and copper pots and pans hung from the walls. A large cabinet held stacks and stacks of dishes of every sort and a perpetually bubbling pot of water hung over the open flame. But the centerpiece of the room was the long wooden table that was covered in flour and surrounded by smiley women kneading balls of dough.

“Hello sweetheart!” chimed one of the women from the table, her older round face framed by grey hair holding onto flushed cheeks and a wide smile. Her grin seemed to calm an anxiety that was perpetually inside her. “How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing very well. Thank you, Mary,” she smiled back at her. “How are you?”

“She’s been talking our ears off all day, Y/N,” the youngest girl, Grace, piped up from across the table, her long black hair pulled from her face in a ponytail that reached her bum. She couldn’t have been older than 16. “Thank goodness you came down here to distract her for a moment.”

“Oh hush, Grace,” Mary playfully scolded her before turning her attention back to Y/N. “My boy had the highest marks in his class this week. Isn’t that just incredible?”

“That’s fantastic!” she exclaimed, knowing how hard the boy had been working on his studies as of late from how highly his mother always spoke of him.

“It’s all because you let him borrow your books,” the older woman said in a softer and more sincere tone. “He reads them so fast now and his instructors are so impressed.”

“I am always happy to lend them to Robert. He’s such a good boy. I always miss him in the winter when it is too cold for him to come to the grounds to play.”

“Spring will be here soon enough,” the last woman at the table, Siobhan, spoke up in a thick Irish accent. Her fiery red curls were pinned up on top of her head and flour was smudged onto her freckled nose.

“The almanac predicts that we should have an early spring this year,” Y/N heard Harry’s deep voice cut into their conversation behind her. She watched as all the eyes belonging to the women at the table went wide in his direction like they hadn’t noticed him prior.

“Ladies, this is Harry Styles,” she introduced him, turning back to face him just long enough to take in his shy and somewhat awkward wave to the women. “He’s the new groundskeeper.”

“What happened to John?” Grace asked in a slight whine, her face falling in disappointment at the news.  

“She had a crush on John,” Siobhan cut in quickly to give Harry context. And while Grace denied her infatuation with a defiant ‘did not,’ her cheeks betrayed her as they turned a beet red.

“William said he got married or something of the sort,” Y/N lied, knowing William had fired him during a particular mood swing. While she held a deep distaste towards her husband, she was afraid to hint at that to the women in the event they didn’t follow his explicit orders due to their second hand dislike of him. She would never forgive herself if they happened to lose their jobs because of her.

These women were her only friends and she cherished them.

“Good for him,” Mary said before quickly turning her attention back to the curly man in the corner, staring at him intensely, as if she could see all his deepest secrets if she just looked hard enough. “It’s good to meet you, Harry,” she finally spoke, voice holding a motherly suspicion. “How did you become a groundskeeper?”

He seemed shocked that anyone would ask him a question at all, stammering slightly as he answered. “I always enjoyed being outside when I was a child, and as I got older, I found that I had quite the green thumb,” he spoke shyly, pulling his hand from behind his back to flash the ladies a thumbs-up. “I started working on estates a few years ago and I send whatever I can back to my mum and sister in Cheshire.”

At the mention of his mother and sister, Mary’s face softened.  All in the room could tell that she had deemed him trustworthy and respectable, pushing away her worst nightmares of him having bad intentions on the estate she ran inside and out.

“What a good boy,” she spoke jovially, like if she was closer to him she could have pinched his blushed and dimpled cheeks.

“Well,” Y/N began in an attempt to change the subject, “Harry has been out in the cold for who knows how long so I’m going to fix us up a cup of tea.”

“Y/N, that is what we are here for,” Siobhan said, letting out a chuckle.

“Oh no,” she waved her off, making her way towards the cabinet and retrieving a sachet of her favorite tea and a teapot. “You’re all busy and I am very capable of making my own.”

She felt Harry’s eyes on her, surely confused about the relationship she had with her staff, as she skillfully navigated around the kitchen. She knew she looked out of place wearing her formal dress, a jeweled belt even wrapped around the empire waistline, as she moved about with the women in aprons covered in flour. But she felt comfortable here, like she was experiencing a loving hug from an old and less stressful life she once lived.

Soon she was holding a silver tray with an ornately decorated tea set delicately placed upon it, Harry trailing behind her while she carried it back to her library without spilling a drop. He continued to watch her with an inquisitive eye as she expertly crafted teas for both of them, although she knew his chill had long left his bones, before she settled onto her pink couch, Harry sitting in a matching armchair across from her.

“The way you are looking at me makes me think I owe you an explanation,” she smirked over her tea cup as she brought it to her lips.

“Ma’am,” he began, but corrected himself to “Y/N,” after she shot him a playful yet disapproving look. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“Fine then. I’m just going to talk to myself and if you happen to hear details about my life that might help you understand me and this house a bit more, then so be it.” She spoke calmly, with a regality that she had spent years perfecting.

Harry’s lips perked up with a closed lipped smile that seemed to say ‘you got me’ and an attentive gaze, signalling her to go on.

“I think it is probably quite obvious at this point that I did not grow up in wealth like this,” she started, ready to explain herself to the man across from her for some reason she couldn’t pinpoint. “I’m friendly with the staff because I was one for most of my life. I was a servant girl growing up, very much like Grace. My family did not have much other than too many children and I left home to start work in estates like this one when I was 11.”

He watched quietly from his seat, not giving her much of a reaction at all.

“I met William when I was 17, when I started working for his aunt in her home. He tried to propose, for the first time, after I knew him for three weeks, but his mother said no because I wasn't born into the nobility. And honestly, I was relieved because I did not like him one bit.”

Harry let out a small chuckle at her words that quickly and involuntarily brought a grin to her face.

“His mother died two years later and he proposed again, no longer needing her blessing as he then became the head of their family. He offered me the world if I were to accept. He told me that we would travel and see the sights and that he would support my dream of becoming a writer. But most of all, he promised to take care of my family financially.” She took a long sip of her tea and swallowed hard before finishing the most painful part of her story. “So I accepted, but he never followed through on any of his promises.”

“William isn’t a bad man,” she continued, “although he isn’t a particularly good one either. He likes control of his house and his wife. It is I that made a naive promise to him and I have spent every day of the last three years paying for it.”

She watched as Harry’s exterior softened slowly as she spoke with radical honesty, looking like he wasn’t sure what to say that could comfort her. While she retold the story in a calm, cool, and collected manner, she hoped she was able to fully conceal her true hurt that attempted to fight it’s way to her face.

“Well,” she said with a cheerful new tone to her voice, brushing off her somber and self-pitying mood, “now that I have spoken about myself and you may have heard some of it, would you like some more tea?”

He raised his eyebrows inquisitively at her sudden change in tone, but decided not to push it any further. “I would,” he nodded. She felt his eyes on her as she stood up and made her way back to the tea pot, wishing she could read his mind. When she returned, she poured his tea carefully and went to set the pot back down, but she was stopped when his hand grasped onto hers.

His skin was now warm, hot even, from his tea cup; but the same shocks still remained when he touched her. She couldn’t help but notice how well her hand fit in his. Her eyes first found where he held her, both of his hands cradling one of her’s gently, then they flickered to his face. Emerald green eyes bored into her own, that surely held an element of shock in them at their contact. His face was soft and sympathetic as he looked up at her from his seat. “Y/N,” he sighed, goosebumps forming over her arms as she felt his warm breath float over her skin. “I’m sorry.”

Before she could answer, she heard the familiar roll of the wheels of her husband’s carriage begin to crunch on the gravel outside the window. Her eyes shot towards the sound coming from the circular driveway and she regretfully peeled her hand away from his own, immediately missing his warmth.

“You have to go,” she instructed softly. “Head out the door to your left, make a right at the end of the hallway, and then head down the second staircase. There’s a door that leads out to the back garden on the left.” Her directions were detailed and concise, like she had used the escape route herself many times.

Harry quickly scurried out of the chair and towards the door she was now holding open for him, but before he made his departure he turned back to look at her one more time. “Thank you for the tea, Y/N,” he said, previous panic traded for sincerity on his face.

“You’re welcome, Harry. I quite enjoy your company,” she confessed. “We will have to do this again.”

He smiled softly before turning on the ball of his foot and taking off down the hallway. As he rounded the corner and disappeared, she heard the front door open and William’s lumbering footsteps clomp onto the shiny marble tile of the foyer. Her eyes flickered back towards the two tea cups that sat on the small table in the library, knowing if William came to find her, he would inquire about who she had tea with. Gritting her teeth and letting out a sigh, she made her way to the front door to greet him.  But not before she closed the library door tight behind her and made a mental note to ask Mary to retrieve the cups.

“Hello my dearest,” she breathed through her perfectly rehearsed smile. “How was your visit with Gregory today?”

“Fine,” he dismissed, leaning in to kiss her cheek and scratching her skin with the stubbly mustache he was desperately trying to grow for some reason. “What’s for dinner?”

“I can go ask Mrs. Jefferson if you would like,” she offered, always feeling odd when she referred to Mary by her last name. He didn’t answer her with words, just a negative grunt that she assumed was denying her attempt at escape.

“Is that a new corset?” he asked abruptly and she watched in disgusted horror as his eyes settled in on her chest. She knew that she was just a warm body to him most of the time, but his grotesque excuses for manners always shocked her.

She pressed her lips together into a hard line, holding back every awful thing she could think of that she wanted to spit in her husband’s direction. Instead, she just sighed and gave him a kurt “yes.”

“Alright,” he grumbled. “They looked bigger. I thought you might finally be pregnant.”

Just the thought of being pregnant with William’s child made her want to refund her lunch onto his riding boots. She could only imagine what a child consisting half of him would look like. She hoped it wouldn’t inherit his bulbous nose, or his beady eyes, or his sparse black hair that seemed to be perpetually greasy.

She prayed every day that the rank smelling tea Mary gave her to drink every morning was enough to stave off a pregnancy forever. It came from a healer woman a few counties over, that some insisted was a witch, but the tea had kept her from falling pregnant so far and she had no plans of stopping her morning routine anytime soon. She didn’t care if the woman was Satan himself, as long as she never began to swell with whatever creature William routinely attempted to put inside her.

“No.” She tried to sound regretful. “I started my cycle this morning.”

“Too bad,” he said, eyes still staring down the front of her dress. “We will just have to keep trying.”

He eventually stopped oggoling her, starting down the hallway and leaving her in the foyer without another word. She let out the sigh of relief that she always did when he left her, releasing the tightly wound ball of stress inside of her that tightened whenever he was near, but she felt it return to her when she sat down at the long dining room table for dinner later that day.

She sipped her wine carefully, watching her husband scarf down his meal at the other head of the table, thankful for the long wooden surface that kept her far from him. But for the first time in forever, her husband and his revolting habits were not at the forefront of her mind.

Her thoughts were occupied almost exclusively by Harry. Surely it was because he was new, like when a little girl receives a new doll and it becomes the center of her universe until the novelty wears off. She also realized she knew almost nothing about him, cursing herself for overrunning their conversation with her own story before they were rudely interrupted. But the small fragments she did know about him, like his love of nature, the care he took for his mother and sister, and his general kindness and care for those around him, had begun to take root in her brain and she just couldn’t shake him.

“What are you thinking about?” William seemed to shout across the table, pulling her from her dreamland.

“I was trying to decide what china pattern we should use for this year’s spring gala,” she lied seamlessly.

“There will be no spring gala this year,” he said with a mouth full of food. “I’ll be in France on business.”

The spring gala was the highlight of her dismal life and she couldn’t help but feel like she had just been punched in the gut by the news. It was a celebration on the spring solstice that the Taylor family had been holding for the last century and was the most lavish and exciting event of the year. There was endless food and drink among lively music and beautiful opulent gowns, but most of all, there were people. This party was a priceless connection to the outside world and to have it ripped away like this was heartbreaking.

“But I’ve already had a dress made,” she weakly argued, picturing the light blue satin ball gown overlaid with a delicate white floral lace.

“You can wear it next year. I have to go to France for six weeks.”

“What is in France that is so important?”

William let out a frustrated huff and looked up from his plate for the first time to shoot her a threatening glare. He was not used to this sort of push back from the usually docile woman, even if her passivity was a meticulously rehearsed act. “A lady should not concern herself with her husband’s business.”

Knowing not to push the conversation, she kept her mouth shut but shot him angry daggers for the duration of the meal. She barely touched her food, but she continued to drain and refill her wine glass.

He pushed himself away from the table after his plate was all but licked clean, looking over at her crossed arms and slumped drunk body in the chair at the other end of the room. “I know you enjoy the gala,” he spoke as gentle as his brooding voice could. “But we will not be discussing this manner any further.”

“Fine,” she said curtly. When he turned to leave the room, she childishly stuck her purple tongue out behind him. She listened to the small bursts of air Grace released next to her, stifling laughter. She grinned lazily at the young girl clearing his plate. “What a pompous knob,” she muttered as she pushed herself away from the table and exited the grand dining room through the opposite exit William had taken. She heard Siobhan’s delicate footsteps following behind as she marched towards her bedroom, the thoughtful woman knowing she wouldn’t be able to undo her tightly laced corset with her currently clumsy fingers.

Siobhan held her hand and securely guided her up one of the many massive staircases that inhabited the mansion, saving her when she tripped on the fabric of her dress. Y/N was thankful for her support, but couldn’t stop thinking about how her contact with Harry felt earlier in the day felt so different. She had originally attributed the electric feeling to the cold, and then considered it a result of not being touched by another person in so long. But Siobhan’s hand did not hold the same sparks.

She stood facing the mirror in her bedroom and stared at herself as Siobhan carefully removed the layers upon layers of her clothing. Her fingers skillfully released the corset from her body and Y/N took in what felt like the first real breath she had taken all day, leaving her in the bright white shift dress that was the first layer she put on every morning.

“Siobhan,” she spoke softly as if she didn’t want to disturb the silence, “do you believe in true love?”

She was quiet for a moment before she answered. “I think I do.”

“Do you think everyone gets to have it?”

“I think everyone has chances, but not everyone actually gets it.”

“Do you think a life with William is a life worth living?” 

Y/N’s own question startled herself, her lips letting the words materialize and fall from them without her consent. Her eyes fell towards the floor, unwilling to make eye contact with the other woman in the mirror after the jarring question.

“Y/N, you have had a tad too much wine tonight to be asking big questions like that.”

“I know.” Her voice was just above a whisper and laced with shame. “Will you get me my nightgown? I want to go down to the library and read before bed.” Siobhan nodded behind her, slipping the lilac fabric and wrapping a cream colored night robe around her, before helping her back down the stairs and into her library.

She ripped a dark red leather bound book off the shelf, not particularly caring what it was called or what it was about, plopping herself down on the ground next to the warm fireplace. She just needed to be somewhere else, transported far away from the nightmare that had become her life.

It took three pages before tears began to prick at the back of her eyes. This book wasn’t a tale of pirates, or war, or mythology; it was a romance, one she had read before. It told of a soldier returning home from war to rescue his one true love from a domineering stepmother, sweeping her off her feet and escaping to start a new life together. She remembered that they lived happily ever after at the end.

She couldn’t help the jealousy and sadness that boiled within her, mourning for a love and a life she would never get to have. She would be trapped within the giant fortress that had been designed to keep enemies out, but had ended up keeping her shut inside with her own nemesis. She grieved for a life she would never be able to experience.

A gentle knock on the door interrupted her wallowing. She didn’t recognize it. Mary knocked loudly, but only once, and William always knocked three times, with Grace and Siobhan usually knocking softly twice.  

She unwillingly dragged her still wobbly limbs off the ground and made her way towards the door. When she opened it, she was met with the bright green eyes that had been stuck in her head all day.

“Harry,” she greeted with a weak smile, trying her best to wipe all her tears off of her hot and angry cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping to borrow a book from your collection, but I can come back later,” he said hurriedly, eyebrows knitting together as he took in her tears.

“No, come in,” she said, sniffling and stepping aside so he could enter.

“Y/N,” he said with concern in his voice, his gaze narrowing in on her like the books no longer existed, abandoning his original goal of the visit. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, not sure if she was telling the truth or not. She held her robe close to her body, trying to hide herself from embarrassment, refusing to make eye contact with him and directing her attention towards the walls. “Uh-,” she stumbled over her words, “what kind of book were you looking for?”

He got the hint to stop his line of questioning about her emotional state, turning his body to face the walls as well. “I was going to ask you for recommendations.”

Her heart swelled with his words. No one had asked her about her opinions on anything other than drapes or china patterns in years. In this house, she was meant to be a proper lady, and proper ladies weren’t allowed to have brains with real thoughts or opinions.

“I have a few,” she cleared her throat. “I keep my favorites on this shelf,” she said, directing him to follow her. The shelf was at eye level for her and when she went to stand in front of it, she felt Harry hovering over her shoulder, his warm breath falling over the skin on the back of her neck. He was too close, far too close for ‘proper society,’ and too close for a married woman to be to a single man. But she couldn’t bring herself to ask him to move back because all she wanted in the world was for him to move even closer.

“These are adventure stories,” she stammered and pointed to a few, thrown off by his proximity, “and these are mysteries.” He hummed in her ear as she spoke. “And these,” she spoke softly and pointing towards the largest section of books, “are romance.”

She stepped aside so he could examine the spines of the novels, watching closely as he recited their names under his breath, perfect pink lips moving smoothly as he spoke quietly. She couldn’t take her eyes off of them. She jumped when he moved to grab a book off the shelf, breaking the trance she had fallen into as she took in his incandescent glow.

“I think I’ll take this one,” he said just above a whisper when he turned back to face her, his face hovering only inches above hers. Their faces were so close, one move and their lips would connect, indulging herself in her wildest fantasies since she had met this man only days ago. He brought the book up beside their faces and she quickly stole a glance.

Pride and Prejudice, was embossed in gold on the dark purple cover. It was new, but had quickly become her favorite romance of all time.

Her eyes connected with his once again, taking in the mischievous glint they held and the boyish smirk that had found its way onto his lips. His smile was contagious, her previous angry tears swapped for a small grin of her own. “Who doesn’t love a romance?” he asked her, smirk turning into a dimpled grin.

She wanted to reach out and grab him by the lapels of his jacket when he stepped back from her and pull his face to meet her own. She wanted to tell him not to go, to lock the door, and take her on the couch. She wanted to ask him to take her far away from this fortress and never return again. But she didn’t. She just let him walk to the door, a new book tucked under his arm.

“Before I go,” he said abruptly, turning around once again to face her. “I have a question.”

“I have an answer,” she quipped, earning a laugh from the man that sounded like the most beautiful symphony she could have ever imagined.

“There’s ivy crawling up the house on the east wall. Would you like me to take it down?”

His words reminded her that he wasn’t some gallant rescuer coming to save her from a loveless marriage and bring her to a better life. No, he was the groundskeeper of her husband’s estate. Her heart sank slightly, but she was glad to be back in reality.

“Let it grow,” she instructed softly. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Chapter Two

Reblogs and feedback mean the world!!

[demetkaradasismss]

meet demet!

Hey is that HANDE ERÇEL? No, that’s just DEMET KARADAŞ. They’re TWENTY-NINE, and have spent ONE WEEK in Dayton. I hear that they’re kind of SWEET but also can be GULLIBLE. CONFETTI-FILLED BALLOONS, BRIGHTLY COLOURED CLOTHING, AND THE SOUND OF LAUGHTER remind me of SHE/HER. Can’t wait to see them at the next party!

TRIGGER WARNING: foster care, pregnancy, domestic abuse, miscarriage

Demet has always been full of life, a sweet smile and always ready to laugh. Despite the fact that she never knew her biological parents, she never let that affect her negatively. She has always tried to see the bright side of things, including that. In fact, if she hadn’t been in foster care, she never would’ve been adopted by the Karadaş family. Her new parents had unfortunately been unable to have children, so they did what they could by adopting. Along with Demet, they adopted nine girls total. Thanks to them, Demet had a family. One she loves and one that loved her in return.

As she grew up in England, she lived a happy life. She made friends rather easily and was always ready to give everyone she met a chance. Which, unfortunately, has done her some trouble. The girl was too trusting, believing to see the good in everyone and making up an excuse as to why there were flaws. That those things were rather temporary, that’s all. This sort of view on the world was considered admirable, but it worried her sisters. She was the youngest of the group and all of them made sure to protect her. To ensure that no one took advantage of her sweet nature and hurt her.

But even then, when she has been hurt by others before, Demet had been quick to forgive them. Wanting to believe that it had been an accident, that they hadn’t meant to hurt her. It was an ongoing thing for her, causing her sisters to be frustrated. Eventually, some of them began to stop trying to protect her. Believing that maybe, she needed to learn a lesson and to not trust everyone so blindly. And unfortunately, that would eventually happen with her first love.

Xavier had been the perfect gentleman, sweeping her off her feet. He had been the perfect Prince Charming and she believed that she would marry him one day. That is, until Demet found out she was pregnant. With Demet sixteen and Xavier nineteen, there had been a lot at stake. For the first time in her life, it was hard to keep her positive demeanor. The two were constantly fighting, neither of them telling their families yet. For twelve weeks, they fought about what to do. Constantly yelling and screaming and crying. Things only got worse after Demet had done a Chorionic villus sampling, soon discovering that her baby had Down syndrome.

Her boyfriend had been pissed. His insults soon translated to his fists, taking his anger out on Demet and their child. Finally, after beating her black and blue, she lost the baby. Demet had been distraught, her heart broken. She finally came clean to her family, about Xavier, about the baby, about everything. Everyone had been in complete shock at the news and began to do everything they could to help her, to show her love and support. It would soon take awhile before Demet was back to her usual self, back to being filled with so much love for the world. To bring back her never-ending faith that everyone is inherently good. While she hasn’t fallen in love again and her sexual experiences have been sorely lacking, the young woman didn’t mind that. She was able to work on and focus on herself. While the pain of losing her baby has never left her, she has found herself determined to live her life to the fullest. Not just for her, but also for her child.

Which would soon lead her to event planning. Sure, Demet has always held a love for celebrations. Festivals, parties, events, everything that was worth celebrating. She soon began to find a great love to being a party planner, with trying to find ways to have the perfect celebration. She attended college in Athens to earn a double major in business and hospitality, eventually moving to New York after graduation to work on becoming an event planner.

While the beginning had been rocky, she soon found her place in the industry. Eventually, Demet became one of the top event planners in the world. Starting up her own company and hiring more event planners to work with her under Joyful Celebrations’ name. And at the beginning of 2021, she soon launched her very first magazine. Talking about everything and anything with event planning, working on a wedding, curating a birthday party, and so much more. After the rough patch she went through a decade before, she found herself genuinely happy.

So… Why has she come to Dayton of all places? She had learn of the party city, how it resembled Las Vegas in a way. Demet’s curiosity got the best of her and she decided to come out here, opening up another building for her company. Deciding to make it the main location for the West Coast. She has only been here for a few days and still has yet to be fully inversed with the lawless city’s ways. Her roommates Yasmine, Laurel, and Nofar have been trying to prepare her for Dayton, yet the women couldn’t help being nervous. Demet was a soft woman- who knows what Dayton may throw at her to try and threaten that?

[seeds-and-sins]

F**kin' Diabolical (Chapter One)

Master List

Pairing: Homelander / Original Female Character, Billy Butcher / Original Female Character

Rating: M (Strong language, sexual themes)

Decription: Carly Danvers is a reporter/radio show host/annoying little piece of- For reasons unknown to Vought, she decided to start a one man investigation on Vought's operation. Her efforts had been quite successful so far, so much so that Stillwell would have done anything to see the young girl dead. Turns out Stillwell didn't have to do anything at all, while one piece of evidence against Vought causes Danvers to fly too close to the sun. And Homelander flies after her.

Notes: Carly Danvers is basically a play on Kara Danvers, A.K.A. Supergirl. Except my own take on it.

The hard part wasn't getting in, any idiot would know that, the hard part was getting out. For as fortified as the building was, she didn't really need much to bypass the security. They were used to pretty girls strutting themselves into the building, either for the Deep, or for an expo. Which these reasons often explained such an occurrence, and in this case, an expo was scheduled for the next three hours, a gala afterwards, pretty girls were in high demand for these events.

Her taking a walk through the main lobby of the building didn't go unnoticed, but it was long ignored after she 'accidentally' stumbled into the nearest security guard, mumbling something about the bathroom. With her head down she entered a small crowd of businessmen and women, making their way into the elevator. She would soon get off on a different floor, nobody would ask questions as they moved higher up the building's ladder. Corporate on top, Heroes on top, lobby on the bottom, events and offices all in between; marketing, studios, etc.

Of course, she was the last to exit. Stillwell's office was on the top floor, along with the board room, the helipad and the apartment style living quarters for the Seven. Carly wasn't by any means nervous, she had infiltrated Vought before and her failures didn't deter her from doing so. Her one drive, that Vought was a bunch of liars, that the Seven were as corrupt as anybody could be. She despised that they were lauded, hated that they got away with crimes normal individuals would otherwise not get away with. Supes had issues. She, as a reporter, wanted everyone to know. For years she had been slithering her way around Vought, capturing evidence, posting it online, getting eye witness testimonies, publishing it. She had grown a small base around the facts, that Vought wasn't all that great, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. Her biggest accomplishment was just around the corner, a surprise interview with Madelyn Stillwell herself, a chance to finally get the answers she wanted.

She snuck her way out of the elevator as proud of herself as ever for making it this far, usually she was ransacked on her way through the double doors of the tower. She smugly made her way down the hall, taking glances at the obnoxious photo shots of the Seven hung up on the wall. She was so close too, if only she had been more vigilant. Even being vigilant though wouldn't have aided her mission.

Within seconds she was being slammed harshly up against the wall, a hand at her throat was all it really took. She kept herself calm, and unafraid, knowing that if she moved wrong the man before her could crack her neck with his pinky alone. His grin pierced her soul, and she soon returned it with her own grin, which only suited to make the Homelander more intrigued. His hands fell flat against the wall, on either side of her, barring her in with those thick sheets of muscle and superhuman power.

"Oh Carly, Carly," He taunted, one of his fingers brushing away the blonde strands that fell out before her face. She peered confidently into his steely gaze with her own brilliantly blue eyes. "Don't we have a restraining order on you?"

"Actually..." She piped in, with a tone as condescending as his own. She reached down into her jean pocket and retrieved a security card, from the guard she bumped into earlier. "I am not Carly today."

"Oh, of course," He chuckled, reaching down and inspecting the photo on the id. "Indeed, so you are Gary, is that correct?" He returned his hands to either side of her head, grinning at her, hoping to make her all the more inferior. But Carly's blood pressure never even so much as peaked and her heart rate was always the same as it had been before his presence was known. He never understood how she, compared to so many, remained so kempt under his sterling supervision. "A middle aged white man, that weighs over three hundred pounds?" She nodded her head, giggled a bit and he licked his lips.

"Exactly." Homelander rolled his eyes, haphazardly tossing the card over his shoulder.

"Seriously though, you shouldn't be here, its against the rules." His expression dropped into a stoic glare, but his eyes continued to intensely run up and down her body, almost hungry, hungry for something he could never have.

"When have you ever known me as someone who follows the rules?"

"That's a fair point." He nodded his head, "but seriously," He deadpanned. "I could kill you right now for trespassing, couldn't I? And it would be reasonable as you were the one breaking the law, wouldn't it?" She didn't react, which at times annoyed him, but he wouldn't give her the benefit of knowing that. He much rather preferred the playful banter to be honest, it made things so much more interesting for him.

"You aren't going to kill me, Homelander. It would look bad on Vought's part, wouldn't you agree?" She leaned in closer to his body, knowing she was playing with fire, hands pressing against the somewhat unrealistic pectoral muscles of his suit. "One of Vought's greatest enemies on the opposition, disappears after finding themselves in Vought's tower." Homelander glanced back and forth, up and down the hallway, as if he himself wouldn't hear the footsteps of an oncoming bystander from a mile away. "Oh, Homelander, does your dick cup need adjusting, or are you just happy to see me?"

"That's enough, citizen." He snarled between clenched teeth, shoving her back against the wall and she sighed her irritation with the whole situstion. She got so close to getting that interview, only a few steps away.

For a moment, she wondered why he was always so gentle with her. Obviously he was never slamming her up against the wall, or pushing her around at his fullest capacity, she was grateful for that. At the same time, it did hurt, he had left bruises on her arm before, he had nearly broken her wrist once. None of this was anything new, she had been between Homelander and a wall many times before. It seemed to be his favorite way of addressing her, but she could never tell. Homelander's intimidation tactics had stopped working months ago, so Stillwell had resorted to just discrediting Carly, ignoring her, but Carly was still determined.

"Urgh, I just wanted an interview with Stillwell."

"How did you even get in the building, huh?" He gave her some space, surprisingly, taking a step back and interlocking his hands behind his back. She crossed her arms and leaned on her hips, staring him down.

"How else do people enter this building? I walked in."

"Hmm, those fucking idiots." Homelander mumbled under his breath, making his way back towards the elevator. He expected her to follow close behind and she did. If she didn't it would be pointless, he would catch her and most likely carry her to the elevator as if she were a piece of paper.

"To be fair, they did suspect me at first but I'm just so pretty, ya'know?" He snorted at her remark and stopped at the elevator door, pressing the button and then tilting his head down over at her tiny self.

"Next time, it won't be so easy." The elevator dinged and the doors opened, Homelander smiled at her.

"I still will find a way, Homelander." She backpeddled into the elevator and he winked at her.

"I'm sure you will, Ms. Danvers, you always do."

"And you waiting for me on the other side, always makes it better, doesn't it?" He ignored that question as the doors closed shut, his smile falling into a grimace.

"Its not like that." He explained, turning to face an authoritative Ms.Stillwell, who had been patiently waiting for him to finish his conversation with Carly.

"Sure its not, no matter how many times I ask you to get rid of her, you let her go every goddamned time." Stillwell stomped past him, her perfume wafting into his super senses and he sighed.

"Fuck." The human had made him soft, that was a fact, and Stillwell knew it as well as he did.

"Hello! My lovely diabolical hero haters, my name is Carly Danvers and we are here for my favorite segment on the show, 'Not so Super Superheroes'." An applaud from a fake audience, a foghorn blasted out loud and she exploded with laughter. She adjusted the mic towards her, along the headseat on her head. "So anyways, I have this guy that's been trying to get on my radio show for legit months now. I was advised not to allow it, but he brings some interesting superhero fallacies to the table. Without further a due, I introduce Doctor Miles Porter. Miles, how are you doing today?"

"I'm doing good, Carly. Fantastic actually."

"That's good to hear, so are you an actual doctor, or what?"

"Yes, actually, I have a PhD in Chemistry."

"Wow, very interesting, and you are a hero hater just like us?"

"Actually no, but I had a recent falling out with my job under Vought so I decided nows a good time as any to become one."

"Oh, alrighty then, this is perfect timing by the way. I heard you know a little about this conspiracy with the blue dope, would you like to elaborate?"

"Well, its not 'blue dope', its a compound..."

"JESSICA! Get your ass in here, right now." Stillwell shouted, hands clenched into fists at her sides as the one named Miles Porter further explained the elements of Compound V over a Live radio station.

"Uh sure, doc, but with all due respect I don't believe in that mumbo jumbo. Do you Allen?"

Stillwell exhaled a breath of relief for a moment, taking the file on Miles Porter from Jessica's trembling hands.

"Nope, not one bit, Carly." Allen was Carly's partner in crime so to speak, they had been friends since childhood.

"I mean, there are notable studies on evolution that completely debunk the blue dope conspriacy."

"Those studies are falsified by Vought, they just want us to think that heroes are natural so they can continue to profit off of them. Do you really think that you are just gonna spout powers out right now?"

"No, that's a bunch of bs, doc, and you know it. Evolution doesn't work like that. I'm just saying, a few generations from now all of us might have super powers. Who knows?"

"You're supposed to be a hero hater!" The doctor exclaimed.

"Now you listen, and you listen well. I never said I hate heroes because they were birthed from some stupid conspiracy juice. I said I hate them because of the shit they do, they don't apply themselves to the law. We don't need heroes like that."

"Well, at least she isn't feeding into the Compound V, scandal." A voice sounded out from behind Stillwell, she physically flinched and then turned to face Homelander. She flattened her pencil skirt as she did so, then waltzed over to her desk, the radio still playing in the background.

"Her following is quite strong, not enough but strong, and just the fact that its being talked about is despicable."

"Homelander is cool though." Carly said, Stillwell rolled her eyes and Homelander grinned.

"Yeah, I knew she'd say something along those lines." Homelander chuckled, Carly was an amusing blood bag that's for sure. He knew one day he'd probably have to kill her, but for now he will let her live. Stillwell can't control every aspect of Homelander's decisions.

"Oh hell yeah, Homelander is cool." Allen agreed, Stillwell nodded to Jessica, who was standing idly off to the side, to turn the radio off.

"Let's ask some of our listeners what they think, we've got father of two, Joe here. Hey Joe, what do you think about the blue-"

"And that's a wrap for us today on, The Not So Super Superheroes segment, thanks to everyone for tuning in. Don't forget to say sassy and hate heroes." Carly harshly threw her headseat off her head as soon as the 'On Air' light flashed off.

"Geez, man, you got so angry." She snapped at Doctor Miles, sitting comfortably in the seat across from her.

"Look, I thought this show would have been a good platform to release such information."

"I'm a girl about facts, ask Allen." Allen scratched his matted beard and nodded his head, "You embarrassed me, doc, and I don't take that lightly." She stood up, grabbing her papers and then moved to leave the room. Allen followed, only for them both to be stopped at the door.

"Wait!" The Doctor scrambled to his feet with a sigh, "I will show you! I can show you!" No one could hear them on the other side, the room was fairly sound proof when nobody was on air. The other employees tidied up, went over takes and funny sounds to use in tomorrow's segment on the Deep and his fish friends.

"I thought you were fired." Allen's dull voice reminded, the Doctor nodded his head.

"I was, but I am sure they haven't changed my card access, yet. I can take you to one of their labs-"

"No, thanks dude, you're crazy," Allen answered, turning into Carly, who was still standing solid at the door. He narrowed his eyes at Carly's face, thoughtful, curious. "No, Carly."

"It wouldn't hurt, Allen. Besides, whether he's telling the truth or not, getting into one of Voughts labs, what a story that is."

"Yes, exactly," The doctor snorted nervously, "I can show you everything you want to see."

[fatefulfaerie]

To Stand Aloft

Direct? Botw 2 trailer? Next week? I can only hope.

If not, I suppose it’s just more one-shots like this to tide us over...

I’m trying to post more content because the rest of the world is ending. Please let me know if I’ve sacrificed quality for quantity and I’ll stop. Been a couple weeks since I’ve been told I’m crap, go for it.

Their feet crunched in the snow in an unpredictable pattern, a rhythm as they ascended the snowy hill. It was the only sound that was heard in the silence between Zelda and Link.

He looked over to her as they walked, her forward glance ensuring she didn’t notice. Link was worried that her attire wasn’t warm enough, yet she seemed just fine. Her newly cut hair stopped right above the wool at her neck, the regality of her gold-encrusted white coat apparently accounted for the cold, it being made of Rito feathers much like Link’s apparel.

He could see her breaths much like he could see his. There was a slight coloration on her cheeks, the bridge of her nose, yet it was no different than how he most assuredly looked.

His concern proved pointless, Link returned to his own forward gaze.

“Up this way,” he said with a slight gesture of his head. The path up Mount Hylia seemed to spiral upwards to its’ peak, Zelda stopping to peer up at it.

Her exhale came out as a puff of air, Link stopping next to her.

“I’m not surprised that he was buried here,” Zelda said quietly. “His people knew him well.”

Zelda started up the incline, Link following suit.

“He spent a fair amount of time on the Great Plateau. He loved Hyrule, but here it was just a little more isolated. I’m told that as a family we would stay in a cabin here sometimes. To get away from the castle, I suppose. I don’t remember much about back then, though. After mother died, we didn’t return.”

The conversation lagged, Link searching for how to respond in his mind before it was too late.

“The Temple of Time is actually where my parents got married,” Zelda added, changing the subject.

“Aren’t royal weddings traditionally held at the castle?” Link asked.

Zelda looked to Link, her eyes squinting.

That wasn’t common knowledge anymore. Unless he actively sought out that information...

“They are,” Zelda said, acknowledging that it was only a logical conclusion to reach. “But the Temple of Time was common for weddings of all stations. It’s religious value and connection to the Goddess Hylia were likely what my parents sought after.”

“Makes sense,” Link added.

“Actually when I was younger,” Zelda continued. “I fantasized that I would follow in their footsteps. The Temple of Time was once so beautiful. Now, I wouldn’t mind throwing away the tradition all together and getting married somewhere completely rebellious, like Tarrey or Hateno.”

“You say that as if you have someone in mind.”

“You don’t imagine things about your future when your mind wanders?”

“I do,” Link clarified. “I was just curious if you had someone in mind.”

“Link, I’m still only seventeen,” Zelda said. “I’m not planning on marrying anyone soon. Without courtship proceedings in place or suitors in line, I can now take things one day at a time.”

“I see,” Link said.

There was a silence, Zelda assuming the conversation was now over.

“Korok Forest,” she heard Link say.

“Hm?” Zelda retorted.

“That’s where I’d want to get married, Korok Forest, hypothetically of course.”

“Oh, that would be beautiful,” Zelda said with the fullest sincerity. “We could--”

Zelda felt herself freeze and tense up. Not in the completely physical way, as she was still walking, but her chest was tight as she pondered her error, feared the response.

Why could she never think before she spoke?

But Link only smiled, a chuckle making his head angle downward.

“Yeah, it would be beautiful,” he said.

Zelda smiled as they reached the peak, yet it faded quickly when she saw her father’s grave.

A wind whistled through their ears as they stood, looking at the simple collection of rocks.

Zelda hugged her arms close, for a comfort beyond warmth as her expression sank.

She turned her head in Link’s direction, not enough to meet his eyes, but enough for him to know who she was addressing.

“Do you have anything?” She asked. “Anything you’d like to say?”

“Anything nice I have to say has already been said,” Link said. “Out of respect, I’ll keep the rest to myself.”

Zelda nodded as her head returned to the grave.

With her first step forward, Link knelt to the snowy ground, his knees wetted by the moisture of the snow. Much like 100 years prior, he bowed his head to his king.

Zelda’s second step saw her arms dangle at her sides. The position, however, was short-lived, her third step the last before she plopped to her knees, sitting on her heels.

Her gaze was low, on her hands as they wrung each other.

“Father,” she started, but no words followed. Link tried to keep his head down, resisting the urge to rush forward and hold her, comfort her.

It was a familiar urge, being lowered to a kneel and frozen there for respect of this King, knowing that the Princess before him needed the comfort.

He remembered using every ounce of his strength not to jump to Zelda’s defense when her father was chastising her on the bridge to her study. 

He wanted to defend her from his sharp words. Being her knight attendant, he knew they harmed her more than any assassin’s blade. 

He wanted to shout and scream at the King, to hug Zelda and to tell her that she could do whatever she wanted, that she deserved to delve into her passions and study plants or animals or technology or whatever her heart desires. 

He wanted to tell her that she didn’t have to be a princess, that she didn’t have to access the sealing power, that she didn’t have to face Calamity Ganon, that he believed in her no matter what.

That he loved her for who she was.

But instead he knelt, then and now, out of respect for her father, the fallen King.

“Link, he…” Zelda finally continued. “He told me you talked to him, guided him when I couldn’t. I am beyond grateful for your kindness. Hyrule is indebted to you yet again.”

She paused, biting her lip.

“But I can’t help but wonder what you would have said to me. I suppose I can only imagine you saying that you are proud of me, or how disappointed you are, or that I saved Hyrule like you always thought I would, or that I proved everyone else right in causing it’s fall.”

Zelda looked up to the large stone, snow starting to drift upon the scene.

“In all honesty, I don’t know what you would say to me now. Hyrule was saved at such a great cost and even then, we may have only scratched the surface.”

Zelda’s eyes went sad.

“I...uhh...I cut my hair,” she said with a forced smile. “Technically I suppose Link did, but the consequence remains.”

“It felt a lot better, freer,” Zelda added. “As did these past few months living in Hateno. Link is truly one of a kind. He’s different than before but, so am I. One hundred years is a long time.”

Zelda stood up.

“I know I’m becoming the person you didn’t want me to be, but I can’t help it. The support Link has given me has--”

The ground started to violently shake, Zelda trying to keep two steady feet on the ground to no avail. Link rushed to steady her, clutching her shoulders until they hurriedly embraced each other.

It was no use, the snow underneath their feet making them slip. Zelda shrieked as they tumbled down the rocky side of the hill. They slid feet first until they rolled, holding on to each other for dear life.

Link’s back landed on the snow, his eyes clamped closed at the soft thud.

When he opened his eyes, she was right on top of him.

“Incredible,” she said as she sat up. “Two earthquakes in one week.”

Link tried to push himself up, but she was really right there, him thudding right back into the snow. The longer he laid, the more his face reddened, Zelda too immersed in scientific analyses to realize that she was practically straddling him.

“The tremors are stronger here, which means I was right, it’s coming from the castle.”

“Zelda--”

“Unless it’s stronger in general, but the frequency assures me it’s definitely an unnatural occurrence.”

”Uh...Zelda…?”

”Huh?” She retorted as she finally looked to Link.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, her cheeks blushing deeply as she quickly moved her legs off.

“Sorry,” she said as she stood up, looking to the castle for any visual changes.

”It’s okay. It’s not the worst place to be stuck,” Link jived as he brushed the snow off his backside.

But there was no response.

“What?” Link retorted. “It was just a joke.”

Link furrowed his brow as he brushed off the last of the snow.

“Zelda?” he asked as he looked to her figure, completely still.

He paced to her side, studying the way her mouth was popped open in speechlessness, the way her eyes searched and searched for an answer to a lingering question he knew not of.

Link did a double take towards where she was looking before he saw it.

The castle, Hyrule Castle, which had stood aloft for ten thousand years and beyond had risen to reveal a structure underneath.

Link’s lips went to form the word “what”, but even then, he didn’t know where to go with that. He tried “how” and it ended in the same silence.

He felt Zelda’s hand slide down his right arm, her fingers entangling with his.

Their future was behind them, and before them, stood the harrowing unknown.

[katehuntington]

Title: Ride With Me (part seven) Fandom: Supernatural AU Characters series: Reader, Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Singer-Harvelle, Jo Singer (Harvelle), Benny Lafitte, Ash Miles, Garth Fitzgerald IV, Castiel Novek, and many more. Timeline: 2008 Pairing: Dean x Reader (eventually) Word count: ±6650 words Summary series: Y/N is a talented horse rider who is on her way to become a professional. In order to convince her father that she deserves the loan needed to start her own farm, she goes to Arizona for six months, to intern at a ranch owned by Bobby and Ellen Singer. Her future is set out, but then she meets a handsome horseman, who goes by the name of Dean Winchester. A heartwarming series about a cowboy who falls for the girl, letting go of the past and the importance of family.  Summary part seven: While Dean makes a tough decision regarding who has to leave the ranch, Y/N finds it more and more difficult to keep her feelings in check.  Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fluff, angst, eventually smut. Swearing, smoking, alcohol intoxication, alcohol abuse. Mutual pining, heartbreak. Crying, nightmares, childhood trauma. Description of animal abuse, domestic violence, mentions of addiction. Financial problems, stress, mental breakdown. Description of blood and injury, hospital scenes, character death, grief. Music: Thin Line - honeyhoney (bar scene), Ride to Death - Carter Burwell (evening ride scene), Wonderwall - Ryan Adams (scene under the Joshua tree). Check out ‘Kate Huntington’s Ride With Me playlist’ on Spotify! Author’s note: Thank you @kittenofdoomage and @girl-with-a-fandom-fettishfor helping me. You girls are awesome betas. 

Ride With Me Masterlist

     Dean pulls his head out of the refrigerator with six bottles of Corona hooked between his fingers. After he straightens his back, he pops off the cap with an opener, repeating the action until all bottles are opened. He’s about to break out the whiskey for his uncle, when the ranch owner hobbles towards the bar. The wrangler doesn’t really register him, though, because as his hands work swiftly, he watches his crew. The group of young men and women laugh over a - without a doubt - exaggerated story told by Benny, as they down the first round of the evening. It's Friday and the night is still young. With a day off in foresight, the workers allow themselves to enjoy the evening to the fullest. Dean will go easy on the alcohol, he has the early shift tomorrow.      Amongst the group of staff, there is one person in particular who brings a smile to his face. Y/N’s laughter carries through the saloon, mixing with the country music that comes from the jukebox. It’s a great sound, one that causes the corners of his mouth to creep up. Jo and Ash are teaching her how to play poker and so far she’s terrible at it, but that doesn't seem to matter. She’s having tons of fun and gets along great with the others. Still wearing a smile, Dean glances down when he pours the amber liquor into the whiskey glass, sets it down on the bar after which he slides it towards Bobby. As if he knows who is on the wrangler's mind, he glances over at the intern as well.      “So how’s our ‘wannabe cowgirl’ doing?” the ranch owner wonders.

     A chuckle rumbles deep down Dean’s throat. He remembers calling her that when he shared his concerns with Bobby on the night of her arrival.      “She survived the first week,” he admits. “Y/N’s a good fit. Still has a lot to learn, but she works hard and she’s smart.”     “So, what you're sayin’ is that the intern isn't a total disaster like you predicted?” Bobby continues, his brow raised.      “You just wanna hear me say you were right, don't ya?” Dean returns, amused either way.      Bobby’s face shows a glimpse of a smile while nursing the tumbler of whiskey.       “Maybe.”      The young man shakes his head grinning as he takes a swig from his Corona. “What I'm sayin’ is that you got lucky. You know this could have gone south,” he returns, not giving his uncle the satisfaction.      “It could have,” the ranch owner admits. “But I had to get creative; talking about things going south.”

     The tone of the conversation changes instantly, leaving a heavy silence. Smiles die, their heads dip down, and gone is the pleasant Friday night feel. Dean is fully aware of where this conversation is heading towards. The issue has been bothering him for an entire week now. He has to decide who of his men to let go      “Have you made up your mind yet?” Bobby asks his right hand.      Dean nods, letting a sigh slip from his lips. He feels like he’s about to snitch on a friend. But this is business, it's what's necessary for the ranch to survive. It’s not personal, and yet it is, because it’s pulling on his heartstrings when he pronounces the name.      “Ash.” 

     Dean’s eyes land on the group at the long table again. The Lynyrd Skynyrd roadie from Kentucky with tattoos on his arms and the wind in his hair is the one who has to go. It wasn't an easy decision, but it was the logical one. With the livestock reducing to only sixty cows and their calves, he will not have enough work to fill his day. What also weighs in, that Ash was hired last. Nevertheless, Gold Canyon is his home and he is a part of this family. He watches the guy, how he points out the pair of jacks in the open card game they are playing to teach the intern Texas Hold’em. The genuine smirk on his face is followed by a backhand down five when she wins. Poor dude, he has no idea what he’s about to lose.      “I’ll break it to him after the weekend.”      The voice of the old man, who seems to have aged during their chat, is sad and burdened. It's clear as a bell that laying off Ash is the last thing he wants for the bull rider, who he took under his wing half a decade ago. It’s a position Dean doesn't want his uncle in; the troubled ranch owner has enough on his plate as it is.      “I’ll do it,” he offers.      “Nah, I got this one, son,” Bobby says, reassuring him as he reaches across the bar to put a hand on his shoulder. “Join‘em, make the most of tonight.”      His nephew nods while picking up the drunks, and heads for the table, after glancing at Bobby Singer another time. Dean swallows down the guilt and worry before he takes a seat, leaving his company oblivious to the dark clouds that are gathering above them.       “So, how's it going? Do I have a new competitor yet?” he asks both Ash and Y/N while he gives out the beers.      “I'm getting the hang of it,” she returns confidently, picking up the two cards Garth just dealt.      Dean watches the young woman without her noticing, too focused on the game. Ash observes every action over the shoulder of his apprentice without helping her this time and is proud when she wins once again with three eights.      “Beginners luck,” Jo scoffs, pushing the pot in her friend’s direction.      “Keep telling yourself that.” Y/N grins at the blonde from across the table.

     It’s Jo’s turn to shuffle when a group enters. Distracted by the squeaking sound of the double doors, Y/N looks up, noticing that Casey is amongst the guests. Ignoring the heavy feeling in her chest, she directs her eyes back to the cards, the bright smile on her lips toned down. Expecting Dean to have his eyes on his probable fix for tonight, her gaze wanders. He noticed the pretty brunette, but it’s not Casey he’s looking at. As Y/N glances over, so does he, and they both seem to feel caught for busting each other. She cannot help but wonder why he would be checking on her, though. Was he curious about her response?       “Hey, handsome.”      Dean smiles up at Casey, who positions herself behind his chair, laying her delicate hands on his shoulders as she kisses him on the cheek. He forces himself to come off as sincere, but there’s an anchor restraining him.      “Hey,” he responds. “Had a nice ride?”      “I did. Would have been better if you were there,” she flirts.

     The game continues, but Jo doesn't deal for him, assuming that the two are going to leave for the bunkhouse anyway, like they usually do whenever Casey is here. After giving out the cards, the ranch owner's daughter peeks up from her hand, noticing her friend, who tries to mask the annoyance and disappointment to what is happening on the other end of the table. When she looks up, Jo’s brown eyes lock on hers as she lifts her chin shortly, the mimic asking if her friend is okay. Y/N nods and fakes a smile, but loses this game anyway.

     “Hey, you wanna get outta here? To have another sort of ride,” Casey whispers in Dean’s ear as she leans in.      He gulps down his beer and sets down the bottle. Her offer should sound tempting, then why isn't he intrigued? Instinctively, his eyes slip over to Y/N again. She seems to be concentrated on the game of poker, but she’s not at ease like she was a minute ago. This time she doesn't grant him any recognition of his existence.      “I - uh…” he starts, brought back to the conversation when Casey softly massages his tense shoulder muscles. “I had a busy week and I have to work tomorrow, so I'm gonna hit the hay early.”      “I can come along and help you relax,” she presses, now wrapping her arms around his neck.

     Y/N picks up on Casey’s offer and grinds her teeth. Suddenly she’s angry with herself. How could she be so stupid to let herself get swooned off her cowboy boots by that scumbag ? Sure, she fought it, she denied it, but at the same time, she found hope in every smile he threw at her, in his flirts and compliments. How could you possibly think for even one short second that he only has eyes for you?! What makes you so special?  

     When Y/N loses to Benny again, she glances at her watch. Ten past nine; it's not too late to train with Meadow. She was reluctant to leave the fun a moment ago, but now leaving the Saloon seems like the best idea she has had all week. Y/N gets up, attracting confused looks from the company.      “You're leaving?” Jo assumes.      “Yeah, I still have to train Meadow,” Y/N excuses.      “You're gonna ride now ?” Dean responds, perplexed. “We were just having fun.”      “No one ever improved their skills by getting plastered and by just having fun, Dean,” she responds, his name coming out with a sneer. “If you want to own it, you've got to work for it.”

     The cowgirl gets up and pushes the chair back under the table, the sound of its legs scratching the wooden floor breaking the silence. As she turns around to leave, her eyes meet Jo’s, who has a ‘you tell’im, girl!’ grin on her face. The doors flap after she walks through them, and the men at the table chuckle.      “She's a diehard, that’s for sure,” Ash says.       “Yeah...” Dean acknowledges, confused. “She is."

     He watches her go for a few more seconds, determined strides, frustration in the sound of her footsteps. What the hell was that all about? For someone who claims to be strictly business, she turned pretty defensive when Casey got a little clingy. Oh, he caught the true meaning behind her words, alright. Is she really implying that if he wants her, he has to step up his game? If that’s the case, this might actually be a good thing. Yes, she’s annoyed with him right now, but this could mean he has an actual shot.      “So, what do you say?” Casey asks again, pressing a seducing kiss in his neck.      He glances up at the gorgeous young woman. She is pretty, wavy brown hair frames her flawless face, some freckles sprinkled on her nose and cheeks. Under that blue blouse and bootcut jeans, there is the body of a pinup girl. One who knows how to get a man’s engine running, which he had the pleasure of experiencing more than once. Dark, lustful eyes tell him all about what she has in store for him once she gets him alone. Yet for the first time, he’s not interested.      “I'm gonna have to pass,” Dean decides.      Somewhat stunned, Casey keeps a hold of the wrangler’s gaze, giving him a second to reconsider. When he doesn't, she creates a little distance and straightens her back.      “Alright then,” she huffs. “Your loss.”      The brunette strides away towards the bar, leaving the poker players in awkward silence. Ash and Garth follow the gorgeous beauty with their eyes, then simultaneously turn their heads to look at Dean, perplexed.      “Dude, did you just piss off two women in one minute? That's impressive, even for you,” Ash comments.      Jo snorts, her beer almost coming from her nose. Dean glares at her.      “What?” she counters. “You just turned down a female specimen of the human race. We should call 12 News.”      “Are you done?” Dean replies, agitated.      Before Jo can throw in another cocky counter, Benny lays down a flush and gets up as he clears his throat.      “If you kids will excuse me. I've got a fish to reel in. Keep the change."      He winks at Dean, who nods back at his friend as a sign of consent. The head wrangler held his part of the agreement, and Benny is going to take full advantage of that. He watches how the farrier settles down on the barstool next to Casey, complimenting the beautiful girl with his irresistible accent, after which he offers her a drink.       “That slick Southern bastard, he’s going to have her in his bed before she knows it,” Ash says, eying at the pair with an impressed look on his face, but then he rises from his seat. “How about some pool, y’all?”      Garth gets up to follow him, but Dean declines.      “I'll be right up,” Jo promises.      When the guys move over, Jo corners her cousin. She gets up, walks around the long table and feels his forehead.      “Jo, don't be ridiculous.” He smacks her hand away. “I'm not sick.”      “Then what the hell is going on with you?” she asks, confronting. “Casey is your usual set of hooters to honk. Since when do you just turn that down?”      “Since now,” the head wrangler answers shortly.      “Why?”      The head wrangler sighs annoyed. “Because I got bored.”       “Because your eye caught something shinier,” Jo corrects. “Dean, Y/N is off limits.”      “Says who?!” he argues.      “Says me!”      “You can't tell me who I can or can't--”      “- fuck and dump when you're done with her?" his little cousin interveans. "Yeah, I can! She's my friend, damn it!”      “Your friend?” Dean scoffs, fighting with Jo as siblings would. “You barely know her. This is her fifth day!”      “Since when is there a mandatory minimum time on friendship?” she cries out. “I care about her and you know just as well as I do that she’s gonna end up with the trash like Casey.”       Dean shrugs, finding her arguments invalid. “Casey doesn’t give a shit.”       “But Y/N will,” Jo brings to mind. “You will leave her a heartbroken mess when you’re done with her. She’ll go home cryin’ and you know damn well we’re gonna need her.”      That comment triggers Dean to furrow his brow. Being the daughter of the owner has its perks. Apparently, she’s aware of the financial problems that are threatening the company.      “How much do you know?” Dean questions with a lowered voice.      “I know there's gonna be a layoff and that we are gonna need all the free help we can get,” Jo states, whispering.      The head wrangler sighs, checking on his crew at the pool table. His eyes linger when he spots Ash, who pockets number thirteen and repositions himself behind the white ball for his next turn.      “Dean, you can't afford to screw around,” his cousin adds.      I’m not screwing around, is on the tip of his tongue, but he keeps his mouth shut. He’s not going to let his cousin in on something he doesn’t understand himself.      “She's not going anywhere, I'll make sure of that,” Dean assures, calmer than a moment ago.      “She better not, ‘cause if she does, that’s gonna be on you.”      With those words, the youngest Singer gets up and heads for the pool table as well. Dean watches her, staying behind with only his beer for company. Burdened, he drops his head, his jaw tensing. Great. One of his good friends is going to get fired next week, he doesn't feel like blowing off steam with Casey, and Jo won't even allow him to be with the girl he’s after. Not that she's falling for his usual tricks, anyway. Just fucking great.       With a sigh he downs his beer, which lost its spark, causing him to make a face at the bland taste. Then he gets up and exits the Saloon. Leaving the muffled sounds of music, conversation, and laughter behind, he slouches down the porch. The evenings are pleasantly warm, now that the monsoon season is reaching the home stretch. The night sky is so clear, that a thick ribbon of stars meanders across, the absence of light pollution allowing the Milky Way to shine brightly.       Going over tonight’s decisions once again, Dean heads towards the bunkhouse, when two individuals catch his eye. About a hundred yards ahead, Benny has his arm around Casey as they stroll up to the front door. Before he opens it, she tiptoes when the farrier turns towards her, meeting him in a hot kiss.       “Benny, you sly dog,” Dean grins.      Surely, he grants his friend the home run, but a part of him thinks of passing up Casey as a loss, now that he will be left empty-handed. The early night isn't going to happen either, since Benny’s room is next to his. He halts as the two enter the bunkhouse, passionately making out, then he breathes out a humid cloud of air. No way in hell he is going to listen to those two banging their heads against the backboard for the rest of the evening. Dean turns around, considering to head back to the Saloon, but then he notices the lighted outdoor arena. He almost forgot; Y/N is still at the barn. Maybe this evening does not have to be a total loss after all. Jo’s voice whales in the back of his mind, but it doesn't stop him from heading over. He’s just going to have a talk to clear the air, no harm in that, right?      Under the stars, he strolls towards the outdoor arena, listening to the crickets which chirp loudly in the dry grass. The two lanterns spread brightness over the otherwise dark and deserted lands, creating long shadows on the ground where the fencing blocks the rays. A horse moves steadily on a large circle, relaxed and in harmony with her rider. Y/N has not noticed Dean yet, too concentrated to pick up on the spectator. There is a peacefulness in the air that distracts him from the troubles on his mind. The coolness of the night causes Meadow to breathe out warm clouds with every third beat of the gait, leaving a misty trail behind her, like a steam train puffing out clouds rhythmically. The silhouette of horse and rider passes by the fence every time they come between the wrangler and the light is as if he’s watching an eclipse. It brings a smile to the cowboy’s face. Bobby was right; Y/N is talented.

     Slowly, he strolls up to the gate, moving into the yellow rays coming from the high masts. This time she does notice him and eyes the head wrangler, perplexed. He is the last person she expected to see here at this hour, especially since Casey couldn't wait to drag him away to do all kinds of dirty things to him.      “H - hey,” she stammers, half surprised, half confused.      “How is she doing?” he wonders while nodding at the horse, more to get the conversation going.       Suddenly self-conscious about every move she makes, Y/N sits back slightly and lets her mare transition to an easy walk, loosening the reins and petting her on the shoulder with her free hand.      “She’s good, a little fresh,” she responds. “I didn't expect you here.”      ���I was on my way to the bunkhouse, saw the lights,” Dean explains casually.      The rider barely smiles at that, still unsure how to behave around him after the way she left the Saloon thirty minutes ago. An awkward silence follows and she decides to continue her training to keep busy. With a forward motion of the hand and a small aid with the legs, Meadow swiftly pushes into a lope, head down and light on the bit, as she should be. The muscles of the well-developed Quarter horse roll under her shiny coat with every stride, flexing and relaxing again. It might look like child’s play, and yet Y/N was less nervous for the Nationals last year than she is now. She can feel Dean’s eyes on her, watching every move closely.       As he does, the wrangler climbs the steel fence, hooking his heels behind the middle bar and resting the palm of his hands on the top one for balance. Intrigued, he observes the training, reading into her skills. Now that she’s aware of him, her riding seems a little stiffer than it was before. Is she actually nervous now that he's here? His presumption is confirmed when she turns in the other direction halfway in a circle through a flying change. Her timing is far from perfect and the horse changes from a left to a right lope a stride too late, unable to translate the aid into an action before the perfect moment mid-stride. Despite the mistake, Y/N tussles Meadow’s manes. For a second Dean wonders if it’s because she didn't recognize the timing being off, but then she performs the exercise again, nailing it this time. Dean smiles at that, content with her method of training. Meadow did exactly what her rider inquired of her, it was the rider who inquired wrong. Where plenty would have corrected the horse or even punished it, Y/N didn't, because she was very much aware that it was a human error. After only a couple of minutes, he has a pretty good idea what kind of rider she is. Truly feeling what happens under the saddle is something most people will never get down. It’s almost like an extra sense, a skill only so many equestrians have. Y/N is one of those gifted equestrians. How she handled that communication error, is what separates horse riding from horsemanship.       Satisfied, Y/N uses her seat to bring Meadow back to an easy walk, after which Y/N lets her move around freely; the mare is done for today. Now that her horse doesn't require her full attention any more, she is forced to deal with the handsome yet overbearing spectator. Why on earth is he even here? Isn't he supposed to be getting laid right now? Oh yes, seeing him with Casey rubbed her the wrong way. She’s fully aware of that fact, and he probably is too. Should she have let him push her buttons like that? No. Was it his intention to mess her up? Probably not. Was she overreacting when she barked at him back at the Saloon? Maybe a little.       “Feel better now?” he asks out of the blue.      Y/N furrows her brow, glancing over when she rides by his spot on the fence, trying to sense in which direction he is going. “What do you mean?”      Dean shrugs, dropping his gaze to the sand for a moment. “For me, a good ride usually works as a stress reliever, and you seemed on edge earlier.”      As the rider cools down Meadow by walking her on a free rein, she considers her options carefully before she speaks. Darn, so he did notice. Then again, the sneer she fired at him was hard to miss. Denying it isn't going to do her much good, so she might as well skip past it.      “I'm fine. Who needs meditation when you spend time on the back of a horse, right?” she replies.      She wasn't keeping up an appearance, because Dean is right. Her mood did change for the better the moment she opened the stable door and was greeted by her four-legged friend. By the time she settled on her back, the whole thing seemed silly and unimportant.       “Especially on a horse like that. She’s good,” Dean compliments. “The rider could use a lesson or two…”      Y/N stares at him over her shoulder self consciously, turning Meadow around to face the cowboy. Is he serious? But when she spots the smirk on the wrangler’s face, followed by the subtle wink, she cannot help but chuckle.      “Let me guess: you should be the one teaching me,” she fills in.      “I can't think of anyone more capable,” he grins, his eyes sparkling like the stars above.      “Of course you can't,” she laughs as Meadow halts, allowing her to swing her leg over the back and smoothly lower herself until her feet reach the ground.      Glad to have gotten rid of the awkwardness, Dean gets down from the fence and opens the gate. Y/N leads the Quarter mare to the tack up area under the tree and her company follows, hitting the light switch when he passes it. The arena spots die down, leaving the only light to come from inside the barn together with the moon and galaxy above. As she takes off Meadow’s bridle and replaces it with a leather halter, she cannot help but to analyze herself. When she angrily speed-walked from the Saloon to the stable with her fists clenched in her pockets, she was calling Dean out for being a dirty scumbag with no respect for women whatsoever. But now that he’s here and apparently still takes an interest in her, a part of her is thrilled by that matter, and steadily overrules.      Y/N, you know better than this! He just wants to get in your pants! He will dispose of you like an empty coffee container when he’s done with you! She continues the inner dialogue while loosening the girth, after which she lifts the heavy saddle off Meadow’s back.      “I got it,” Dean says, taking over the twenty-five-pound load.      He holds the back of the saddle on his hip, balancing it by gripping the gullet. As if it weighs nothing at all, the wrangler heads to the tack room. Amused, Y/N watches him from under her Stetson hat, her eyes taking him in from top to bottom. Oh, you just cannot help yourself, can you? Meadow snorts impatiently and rubs her head against her shoulder. She is making herself perfectly clear; the Queen doesn't have time for this and wants to get to her hay, pronto. After a quick brush Y/N leads her to her stable and puts a rug on the horse to protect her from the cold in the early hours. Buried in thoughts, she enters the tack room where Dean is about to put the saddle away. She watches him push the saddle upon the highest rack on the wall, his strong arms working under his plaid shirt.       “Can I ask you something?” she wonders while she stores away the brushes, leg protection, and bridle.      “Shoot,” he says, as the two of them exit the room, which the head wrangler locks up.      The cowgirl hesitates, her footsteps suddenly loud and obvious when she begins to walk down the hall between the stables. “It might be a little straightforward--”      “Really? You being straightforward?” he interrupts, a smug grin on his face. “Now, that I wasn't expecting.”       She glares at the handsome cowboy, but can't suppress the smile either. The sarcasm is practically dripping off his comment and she bumps her shoulder into his.      “Watch it,” she warns. “You’re not entirely on my good side yet.”      A last glance into the quiet stable is sufficient to reassure Dean that the horses are alright until the final feeding round. He leaves the light on for his uncle and exits the barn through the large doors.      “Yeah, about that. What did I do to make you storm off?”      The two of them walk out, back to the tack up area. For a moment Y/N thinks of an answer, but nothing that she can come up with sounds reasonable. To be fair, she’s not even sure if she’s ready to admit why she got so frustrated with him. Dean is a free man, who can see whoever and do whatever he pleases. Yet when Casey put her arms around him and got intimate, she felt a prick in her heart. Her stupid, stupid heart wanted to be the one close to him, even though her smart mind is trying to keep it together and do the respectable thing.       “It was nothing, really,” she excuses, not giving him much of an explanation.       Dean glances aside, reading into the doubt in her voice. What is it, that she doesn't want to tell him? Could it be, that in that moment, she was jealous of Casey? He thinks about it for a second, as he slowly strolls to the big Joshua tree in the center of the square. He has played a lot of girls, but that sure as hell was not what he was doing here. He never intended to lure Y/N out of hiding, though her response to the situation raises a question. If watching him and another girl really bothered her that much, does that mean that she is interested in him? Confused, he bites the inside of his cheek as he halts.      “What did you want to ask me?” he wonders.      For a moment there, she was lost in her own mind, but then Y/N redirects her focus and turns around to face him. Curious, he observes the young woman as he leans against the bark of the tall Yucca tree. The sight of Mister Green Eyes wonderingly looking over, forces her to take a breath before she speaks. Stars reflect in his pupils, the moon painting their surroundings in a silver hue. It reminds her of the hills back home, covered in frost at the arrival of winter. Dean’s short hair has been tousled by the hat he took off and now holds by the brim. The up-to-no-good smile is gone, but he seems content either way. God, isn't he lovely. Annoyed with herself for thinking such things, she looks down, figuring that not being mesmerized by his gorgeous looks might help her keep it together.       “I was just wondering…” she starts insecure. “I - I mean, you and Casey… Are you two…?”     Dean frowns at the presumption. So it was about Casey.       “Together? No.” He huffs, unable to picture it. “She and some friends rent a house here for a week or two a year to blow off some steam. We’ve hooked up a couple of times whenever she comes over, but it doesn't mean anything.”      Y/N digests the information and keeps her gaze pinned on the hat in his hands. It doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. See? He doesn't care about Casey and he surely won't care about her either. But if he doesn't care for Casey, she doesn’t have to compete with anyone. Wait... She’s not actually considering making a move, is she? Y/N, you are under no circumstances making a move! she tells herself sternly. God, this is what schizophrenia must feel like.      Trying to distract herself from the voices in her head, she carries on with the conversation. “I'm sorry for asking. I know it’s none of my business, but I - I cannot help to wonder…”      Now she does look up, a little shocked when she realizes how close Dean is. His eyes are on her, peeling away the layers as he tries to make sense of what she’s struggling to say.      “If Casey is at the ranch, why are you here with me?”      Stunned, Dean keeps a hold of her gaze. She isn’t asking the obvious, but that is a damn good question. Casey offered herself on a silver plate back in the Saloon. Dean never experienced much trouble with the ladies, yet the brunette, in particular, couldn't wait to open her legs for the wrangler. He could have had her in his bed right now, letting her do all kinds of delightful things to him. Yet here he is, opposite of the girl that has been giving him a hard time from the get-go. The thought of Casey did nothing for him, he simply wasn’t interested in the regular ranch guest. Why is that? Brought out of balance by the question, he chuckles nervously and breaks eye contact, fiddling with the brim of his hat again. Slowly it starts to sink in. Why he would much rather be here with Y/N under the Joshua tree. Why he felt the need to protect her from Benny’s lust. Why he lost interest in any other girl. Why every wandering thought, every daydream he had in the past week, was somehow about the one person standing before him.      He looks up at her again and something within him changes. A tightness in his chest that he has never experienced before makes it difficult to swallow. It's unpleasant, scary even, but the sight of her waiting in wonder takes away the discomfort. The faint light from the night’s sky caresses her hair and smooth skin. A pair of gorgeous eyes framed with long lashes watch, traces of hesitation in them, but also curiosity. God, she’s beautiful, he thinks to himself.

     Dean fails to answer her question with words. He doesn't have to. His mouth falls open just a little as he looks deep into her eyes with an intensity she is unfamiliar with, simply because no one has ever looked at her like that before. As if only now he came to realize what is happening between the two of them.      He can tell that she understands now, because her insecurity makes way for astonishment.       “Oh…” she responds, flustered, a shy smile growing larger.      He mirrors her expression without letting go of her gaze. His pupils bounce between hers as he leans in hesitatingly. Every fiber he consists of wants to kiss the enchanting cowgirl before him and he cannot stop his eyes from flicking down at her lips for just a moment, then up again. Would she let him? What are you waiting for? Just go for it, Dean lectures himself. This isn't the first time he’s kissed a girl, however, doubt overwhelms him. What if she pulls back? What if he ruins it? Could he handle that? Before the cowboy can decide to act or not to act, she looks down and lets out a shuddering breath, the anticipation becoming too much.       “Are you cold?” he asks kindly, quickly covering up the awkwardness.      She crosses her arms in front of her chest and nods. Not only did Meadow get a workout, so did her rider. Her clammy undershirt has turned stone cold and sends goosebumps down her arms. Or is it Dean who is doing that?      “Let’s get inside. Wouldn't want you to catch something,” he suggests, not having a jacket to offer.      She agrees to that, because the warmth of the bunkhouse sounds pretty good. In silence they stroll towards the cabin, her shoulders hunched in an attempt to keep the cold at bay, as Dean walks by her side. Overcome by the rush of mixed emotions, she glances at him from under her hat. He seems to be pondering, without a doubt going over the past minute. That one moment that Dean’s reason for wanting to be around her became clear, with nothing more than a look. Holy mother, he was going to kiss you, and you glanced down? Why would you do that? What were you thinking?! She could kick herself in the head right about now. It was the responsible thing to do, to avoid things from getting complicated, to keep their relationship strictly business. But dear God, she wanted him to close that gap and press his lips on hers.       Dean walks up the porch and opens the door, after which he holds the fly curtain aside so that Y/N can pass through. As soon as she steps into the bunkhouse, peculiar sounds coming from one of the rooms draw her attention. Squeaking in a steady pace mixed with moans of both male and female, followed by a muffled ‘oh yeah’ and ‘right there’. Dean, who was about to pull the door shut, freezes mid-action when the noise reaches his hearing. Well then, this situation just went through the awkward scale. Y/N slowly turns to him, eyes wide in shock as she mouths ‘Oh my god!’ and he can't contain the quiet laughter.      “Who’s in there?” she whispers.      “My two cents: Benny and Casey,” he replies, keeping his voice down.      “Are you serious?” she returns, watching him shrug. “She lost no time, did she?”      “Like I said: it didn't mean anything,” he assures, grinning at her judgment. “Besides, you’re much better company anyway.”      Y/N can feel the heat rising to her face again. She opens her mouth to return the compliment, when the sounds from the other room intensify. Dear Lord, those two are really going at it.       Dean chuckles, awkwardly rubbing his neck. “I'm gonna get some shut-eye, if I can with those rabbits next door.”      “Yeah, me too,” she says, shaking her head as she makes a mental note to dig up a set of earplugs from her suitcase.      In the doorway Y/N turns around, granting herself a last look at the man that is stealing her heart away. “Good night.”      “G’night,” Dean returns with a soft voice, keeping a hold of her gaze as well until she shuts the door.      The sounds of the couple in the other room is all that is left, a painful reminder of his loneliness. Could this evening have played out differently if he had kissed her? It probably could have. Shit, what if he wasted his only shot? For a few seconds the wrangler lingers, but then turns towards his room, where he sits down on the edge of his empty bed. Banning the noises of pleasure next door from his mind, Dean forks his fingers together as he leans his forearms on his knees. He's so confused by his own thoughts and how he’s responding to them, that he doesn't seem to know himself anymore. For some reason his conscience is telling him not to rush this, to take it one step at a time. What if for once in his life, this could grow into something more than just a fling?      At the same time, another voice raises awareness for the mixed signals she’s been giving, because she hasn’t exactly sent him a private invitation. And even if she does go along with it for a little while, what happens when she truly gets to know him? What happens when she learns about his tainted past, the family drama, his flaws and missteps? What happens when she sees him for who he truly is, under the mask and the pile of bullshit? The only reason why he can live with himself is because he swept the dirt under the carpet a long time ago and keeps pretending it's not there. When she knows, she will leave, he’s sure of it, and the thought of that alone scares him already. But it’s his heart that shouts the loudest, practically begging to throw himself at her. His heart which was rooting for that kiss. His heart which finally seems to have found what it had been silently waiting for.       Pondering, Dean rubs his face and glances at the desk clock on his nightstand, which shows the time at 10.47 PM. Next to it, a picture stares back, portraying his Mom with her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling her four-year-old son against her chest lovingly. Like he has so many times over the years, he wishes she was still alive. Right about now, this lost wanderer could use someone to point him in the right direction.

The pining! They were so close! Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).

Read part eight here

[emo-rejects-archive]

🦑-My muse gets tentacle fucked (Skyla)

It had been a relatively quick flight from Mistralton City to Nimbasa City, but for Skyla, it felt like one of the longest of her life. Almost as soon as she landed her plane, she was waddling her blubber butt out the door as fast as she could, which was to say not very fast at all.

Even in the taxi ride to the Nimbasa Gym, she was still wheezing and sweating, but that could’ve also been from the excitement she felt from seeing her girlfriend, Elesa, for the first time in months.

Dating was pretty difficult for the two since they both resided in different parts of the region, they both had their duties as gym leaders, their personal roles in society as a pilot and model, and to add on top of all that, they were both getting fatter, making it hard for them to get around places, though Elesa was not quite as pudgy as Skyla.

So it’s not hard to imagine how excited Skyla felt when she pulled up to the front of the Nimbasa gym and Elesa herself was there to greet her.

The two hugged eachother, unable to reach their flabby arms around each other, big jelly bellies knocking into each other. They shared a passionate kiss, a kiss of two lovers who had been kept separated for quite some time.

They spent the rest of the day having fun in Elesa’s personal room, dabbling in celebrity gossip, watching their favorite movies, and stuffing each other to their fullest.

By the end of the day, Skyla flopped onto Elesa’s ginormous custom made bed, her immensely bloated stomach hanging straight in the air, like a gigantic mountain that touched the sky.

“BWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORRRP!”

Skyla smacked her pudgy lips after a hearty belch parted her lips, giving a her gut a few soft pats. “Mmm... Thanks for today, Elesa! I had a lot of fun!”

Elesa sat her wide rear on the mattress beside her lardy lover, the bed crying out in agony from having to lift over a half ton of weight. “I did to,” she said, smiling. “I just wish we could do stuff like this more often.”

She put a finger to her double chin. “Actually, I might have one more thing we can do...” She pulled something out of her bedside drawer. It was an... Octilery Tentacle?

“What’s that supposed to be?” Skyla questioned, brow furrowed.

A sultry look molded itself onto the fat of Elesa’s face. “Trust me, you’re gonna LOVE this...”

She pulled down Skyla’s shorts, her crotch not even visible due to all of the chunk that encompassed her legs. “Eep!” The flying type trainer squealed. “E-Elesa what are you doing?!”

Elesa put a finger to her girlfriends lips. “Shh... Just trust me...”

Elesa spread Skyla’s tree trunk thick thighs apart and lifted her girlfriends stomach up, revealing her pudgy pink snatch. With almost zero hesitation, Elesa inserted the strange tentacle like toy up Skyla’s vagina.

Skyla gasped out in pleasure, feeling the severed tentacle sink into her orifice. It slithered about on the inside, sticking its suction cups against the inner walls of her vagina, then peeling itself off, the cups drenched in love nectar.

Elesa adored watching her plump lover get tentacle fucked, all of the ripples being sent across Skylas gelatinous body as she squirmed about. Elesa continued to push the appendage in and out of the mouth of Skyla’s arousal, wet smacking sounds sounding from in between her thighs.

Elesa hit a button on the tentacle, causing the toy to increase in speed, the rate of its squirming, growing faster and more aggressive.

Skyla moaned and screamed in pleasure, writhing about, her clit swelling, as the floodgates opened, and she climaxed into a powerful orgasm, a waterfall of cum dripping out of her lovehole.

She huffed and puffed, face redder than a tomato. “Huff... Huff... Whew, boy... That was fun.”

Elesa cupped a handful of Skyla’s fleshy belly, a sultry gaze upon her face. “Wanna switch?”

[animebw]

Binge-Watching: Princess Principal, Episodes 10-12

In which we reach an unsatisfying conclusion, I pin down what hasn’t been clicking, and I consider how loose threads leave lasting damage.

Liar, Liar?

There’s a part of me that hasn’t been satisfied with my Princess Principal analysis ever since I wrote my last words on episodes 7-9 a couple days ago. I don’t disagree with any of the points I made; first impressions were utterly killer, while the subsequent show started running into a few more niggling issues. But I always felt like there was some aspect I wasn’t picking up on that was influencing my increasing apathy towards what had started out on the best foot possible. I loved those first couple episodes so freaking much, but the further I got into the rest of the show, the less and less of that initial fire I felt. And I just couldn’t figure out what I was banging my head against that caused that descent of opinion. Something just wasn’t clicking, and as is often the case when something’s not clicking, it took until the show circled back to directly showcasing what wasn’t clicking for me to figure out where the missing piece was. Hey, sometimes these things take time, even when you’ve been talking about anime as long as I have. As I’m so fond of saying here, art is an imprecise science, and the rules you use aren’t always going to be helpful. But give it enough time, and you’re bound to figure out where you stand and why you stand there.

So, what was stymieing me about Princess Principal’s subtle decline in quality? Well, it took me until the introduction of the endgame plot of assassinating the princess to really figure it out; this show has been frustratingly poor at utilizing its premise to its fullest potential. Think of how many ideas and threads those first couple episodes set up that just haven’t been explored in any real depth. We’re introduced to a world of constant liars and double-crosses, where even the characters we’re ostensibly rooting for might carry hidden agendas we’re not aware of, but from then on everyone’s pretty much always on the same page. Ange herself is established as someone willing and able to get blood on her hands to get the job done, keeping herself wrapped up in a million layers of deception to keep her emotions under lock and key, but that never really comes up in any of the missions we go on. The disparity between the rich and poor is the center of the show’s entire universe and driving ethos, but we never got much of a sense of how those two worlds really interacted beyond the small pockets we visit from time to time. The show has pretty much just been a series of random, mostly disconnected missions with light character focuses, with none of the big ideas it hinted at playing with coming into focus until the final episodes, by which point it hasn’t done enough work setting those ideas up beforehand to explore them in any real depth.

Lost in the Weeds

Because once Princess Principal has to get around to resolving its story in the final two episodes, it really becomes clear how ill-equipped it left itself to bring its ideas to a close. The rift between Ange and Charlotte in episode 11 forms far too quickly for the time we’ve spent getting to know them; it’s mostly just a re-iteration of the same conversation from episode 3, with no new context added in the eight episodes between them. It’s the same problem as Miku and Hibiki’s spat from the first season of Symphogear (odd how the lesbian shows all seem to share the same problems, now that I think about it); the bond that’s been established between them feels too close and understanding for things to spiral out of control the way they do here. So the intended emotional arc of Ange learning to tear the wall around her own heart down doesn’t really land, because we’re not given a chance to feel like this conflict was a natural outcome of that flaw that she must overcome to save Charlotte and repair their broken trust. It feels, instead, like a writer’s crutch to throw a wrench into the dynamics for quick drama and position the pieces where he needed them to go for the final showdown.

And that’s a problem, because that emotional arc is the only thing that really gets resolved in a definitive fashion here. With not enough time to wrap up the overall goal of tearing down the wall, the show’s plot instead is forced to screech to a premature halt before it’s even really gotten a chance to develop anywhere, with nothing really changing in the overall structure of the world between the start and end. The enemies we defeat were enemies introduced solely for the purpose of having antagonists for the final battle, so it’s not like we’re overcoming some long-gestating avatar of evil the show’s been setting up since the beginning. We don’t get any real sense of where the nation’s political state currently lies, and if anything, the attempts at exposition about generals and strategy moving in the background give off the impression that the show’s much more comfortable with broad allegory than direct mechanics. Not even Charlotte’s plan to usurp the queenship and end the current system gets much development here, just the fleshing out that she’s prepared to assume any responsibility- even the guillotine- of being the land’s last queen if that’s what it takes to bring peace to the world once its current, broken order is smashed apart. And I do like the bits of Charlotte we get here, between her leaving an escape route for Ange because she knew her girlfriend would come rushing after her and trying to escape her own predicament much like Ange would, but very clearly not having the skills to pull it off. These are the kind of subtle character moments that the show’s able to pull off at its best, but they aren’t enough to overcome the lack of narrative inertia that settles in here.

The overall sense I get from Princess Principal was that it wasn’t intended to be a complete story when all was said and done. It was intended to be a franchise starter, the setup of a world and cast that future installments could play with as they see fit. As a result, though, it forgets to give proper closure to itself in the present, and I’m left wishing the show I was promised in those first few episodes was the show I actually got.

Odds and Ends

-”Now we can have a class reunion!” “We’re not doing that.” The shade is strong with these two.

-Another thing; you’re all spies, so why are you talking at normal, or even loud volumes, when you’re trying to be SNEAKY? Have your class reunion quieter, you’ve got hostiles around every corner!

-You know, I always wondered what those bamboo water sticks were used for. Guess just decoration, huh?

-”You don’t care about people enough to insult them.” These might genuinely be the subtlest burns in history flying back and forth here.

-Oof. I’m... kinda confused on the particulars of what happened with Prefect to turn her into a double agent. Was it just the drugs of...

-”There’s somewhere I have to take you, just the two of us.” Oh just kiss her already

-GOD LOOK AT THEIR HAPPY FACES THEY’RE SUCH PUNKS

-So that’s Ange playing Charlotte playing Ange playing Charlotte. What even.

-Well, hello there, Commander Erwin. How’ve you been since Attack on Titan?

-”Floor it.” askjdhaksjdhas that’s one way to do it

-”I promise I’ll break the wall around your heart.” kiss kiss KISS KISS KISS

-”I cannot imagine Ange in a romantic affair.” BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU CHISE

And that’s another show done. Expect my series reflection in a bit, as well as what show will take its place!

[raleigh-ocean]

water lillies bloomed from chaos (and love) | chapter 1

summary: it’s not like they were connected to her by blood or a strong bond, but it was more like magic choose them in between perfection, chaos, love and something unknown to make them just perfect, broken and fixed as they were. Raleigh thought however, amidst her own broken pieces, that if something remained from their big love, it was all mixed in those three young witches: Zoe, Mallory and Madison. And she wasn’t going to give up in any of her lovechilds, as much trouble it could seem.

words: 4, 700

ao3 link: here!

song: secret for the mad by dodie

chapters: 1

the one where patience is a virtue (madison, pt. 1)

Looking into it, Raleigh always hated Louisiana's summer.

The heat, the humidity, it always made her feel like she was losing weight just by standing up.

Destiny decided to make her come back in the middle of fucking summer in a cruel poor attempt of pulling her leg, not letting her to actually prepare something to fight against it. Loathing dresses, she had to stick with her old pair of shorts almost everyday holding how much it displeased her showing her legs...or any centimeter of her skin for that matter.

Tightening her grip to her purse, she tried to take her mind off of that and keep trying to focus in the screen where her order would show up at any minute.

Only a month back and she was breaking Cordelia's rules at its fullest. But she was craving, she needed her sugar intake to keep her brain working. The new diet Raleigh was following was meant to rise her weight from a healthy perspective, but Morgana helped her, what's she needed was a burguer an extra large order of chicken nuggets and a double sized milkshake. And a Dr.Pepper.

Even when she went out of the store, the humidity feeling even worse because of the upcoming rainy clouds, she felt content. Content for being back, for starting to roll with the events, for being home, for being alive.

Cordelia also had forbidden her from driving, so when she got in the car Queenie’s smiling face was waiting for her. It was one of the few things Raleigh did obey, but she was fixing that soon. Raleigh handed her buddy in crime her order, getting a cheer out of her. That’s what she liked the most about Queenie: she was always up for a mischief - and breaking some rules.

“I thought you were ordering for both, not for the entire Academy,” the girl laughed, watching as Raleigh pulled her chocolate milkshake and took a good sip with the straw.

“You know how the girls get,” Raleigh shrugged, putting the bag over her legs. “I love to see them battle royale their way for a chicken nugget.”

Bursting in laughter at the memory from a few nights ago, they took a couple of bites before Queenie drove off to the Academy.

Out of everyone, Queenie was the fastest to warm up to Raleigh’s presence again and that was a very much welcomed gesture. Zoe still seemed to be taking her time, not really sure if her mentor was the same as she used to be. Mallory was having a hard time adjusting to Raleigh and Madison sleeping with her in the same room and tried to avoid them for the time being; she was still hurt because Cordelia gave her the scold of her life and she respected the Supreme an awful lot. Misty was a lost cause, Raleigh could still feel her cold and full of hurt eyes on her, her heart sinking behind her ribs and into a hole of fear quickly. And Cordelia...well, she was getting there but her professional approach left her feeling as terrible as it did looking into Misty’s eyes.

As a phantom pain appeared, Raleigh’s hand lingered in her own cheek. Being slapped by the love of your life was always a big no-no, even when she deserved all of it. She felt really lucky that Cordelia confined her along Madison and Mallory to that shared room instead of being kicked out of the Academy.

“It’s a luck we have this weekend free,” Queenie put Raleigh down on Earth again, taking a right and then giving her milkshake a sip. “With Cordelia and Zoe away, we can relax a bit.”

“It’s not as if I have something to do aside of reading,” Raleigh chuckled at that, eating a few fries in one go.

“C’mon, you like that, being in silence with your books and shit,” they weren’t that far from the house anymore and Queenie drove as if she had done that trip thousand and thousand of times. “You spent like twenty hours glued to a book back then,” the girl laughed openly and Raleigh shook her head a bit. “The other four were for eating, sleeping and fucking Mist.”

The memory made her stomach churn, and Raleigh focused her eyes out of the window. After taking a step back and watching how Misty and Cordelia moved on in her absence, still made her feel like that. Raleigh wasn’t proud of how the swamp witch and her handled their ‘relationship’; she spent five years mourning her, thinking she was good as dead upon hearing her in the other side of the line when she called Mallory to go pick her up.

“I helped Nan several times to bake,” Raleigh tried to defense herself. “And you with more dark magic stuff, which I hope Cordelia knows nothing about; and Zo with her powers and-”

And now I'm helping Madison. She wanted to keep saying that, because back then she wasn't one of the few she was really close to. Maybe it was Fiona's influence working on her and later how she disappeared several times and acted basically as the worst out there, not that Raleigh blamed her fully for.

“Okay, I get it,” Queenie interrupted her with a good laugh that made Raleigh feel full of warmth instead of dread. She was one of the few that was actually vocal about the problems Raleigh had with the two oldest members of the coven, so she knew when to pick up the cue of not talking about it. “Listen, why don't we set up movie night tomorrow? You literally missed a fucking ton of good movies and I'm making you watch them all.”

That little change in the conversation was more than welcomed, making the last minutes of the trip light and enjoyable. Not that Raleigh's mind couldn't work at two things at the same time, because even when she was talking with Queenie underneath she was also thinking about Madison.

If there was one thing she was actually proud of herself, was the capacity of picking up little details from others. Like how Cordelia still closed her eyes a second upon hearing something that she knew would shocked her, or how Mallory played with her fingers when she couldn't word her thoughts. And in between details, Raleigh discovered Madison's.

At meals she usually sat the furthest from them all, in silence and trying to eat unsuccessfully whatever couple of things she picked from the table. It worried Raleigh that her plate was almost full at the end, but anyone seemed to notice. She had seen her during her own sleepless nights going down to the kitchen and try to eat before running to throw up everything. Also it didn't help at all that her intake of cigarettes had doubled.

As Queenie was starting to pull over by the Academy, Raleigh looked at the fast food bag in her lap. Obviously she had bought their cravings with some extras for the rest of the girls, but also she had picked a little pack for Madison. With the memory of the day they came back in her head, Raleigh had placed the order without hesitation. Desperate times needed from desperate measures, right?

Queenie decided to have her meal in her room, wanting to keep watching a show while eating, but Raleigh decided to take over the kitchen.

It was a feeling in her guts, as if whatever she was hoping for it was there - as when she was young and she was just too perceptive instead of having a know-it-all power. The sound of someone typing on their phone plus the ruffle in the kitchen cabinets made her feel a bit nervous, but Raleigh calmed herself while holding Madison's vanilla milkshake in her hand. The latina witch entered the room to discover Madison sitting there, phone in hand and cigarette resting in the ashtray, windows open to try and catch a lucky afternoon breeze. Misty was there too, making iced tea apparently, and Raleigh felt her giving her a quick look before going back to what she was doing.

Shit that it hurt, but now wasn't the moment to dwell on it.

“Ready to see people battle-royalling over a chicken nugget?” Raleigh's voice made Madison look up to her, a soft smirk on her lips.

“My bet this time goes to…” Madison contemplated her options for a second, taking a drag of her cigarette. “They'll drop that shit to the floor and at least one will cry over it.”

Raleigh chuckled at that, placing the bag in the counter before getting a couple plates and some glasses. Since Queenie had told them about what happened when someone left any kind of treat over the kitchen counter, it became something fun to bet for. I mean, they still were there getting used to live among witches again and they didn't have a lot to do, what else could they do?

“A little one is going to get everything while the rest fight,” Madison huffed at that, underestimating Raleigh's bet. “Mark my words, they pretty smart.”

“Yeah whatever,” turning to her phone again, one earphone on to keep listening what she was watching, Madison lost interest in how Raleigh was placing food in one plate. “Where goes your bet swampy?”

Misty sighed heavily, not wanting to get dragged to the conversation, and Raleigh gave her a sideway look before pouring the milkshakes from the plastic cup to the crystal glasses. Putting her palm over the rim of Madison's glass, Raleigh closed her eyes before muttering some words in latin really low but Misty caught her doing it. What was going on with her? Now she wanted to enchant the students?

However she didn't say a thing nor stopped her.

“Not placin’ bets on how the girls go crazy over food,” her tone more serious, showing how being around Cordelia had changed her a bit, made Madison huff again and Raleigh scratched the back of her head a bit. “And Delia doesn’t want junk food in the house since last time.”

“Don't be a pussy, Cordy is not even here,” Raleigh turned around with her two plates to place it by Madison's side, where she was going to sit. “I know you are next in charge when she and Zoe aren't here, but you were never the killjoy.”

“Whatever you say to make yourself feel better Maddie,” another sigh falling the Cajun's lips and Raleigh saw how Madison wanted to reply but instead chose not to.

She knew the starlet would have started a big argument just for that, but this new persona that Madison was developing wasn't kind to being too loud. Raleigh had noticed that too, as if she was up to throw the first brick but at the same time be reluctant to keep on throwing them.

“I brought this for you cupcake,” the nickname made the youngest blonde to roll her eyes, but looked interested at the glass. “And french fries to stop a train, so you better eat some.”

Raleigh then noticed how Misty turned around as if she was going to say something, but when she saw how Madison barely touch the milkshake she leant back in the counter with a glass of iced tea in her hand. Biting her burger with the hunger of a pack of wolves, Raleigh waited for Madison to do something aside of keeping her attention in her phone. In the next ten minutes, she didn't even sip the milkshake and that both relaxed Misty - who was worried about whatever spell was placed there - and made Raleigh anxious - she knew for a fact that she skipped both last night dinner, breakfast and lunch.

“I'll eat upstairs,” Madison finally said, standing up and taking the glass and a few chicken nuggets and fries in a bowl. “In case any of you need me.”

But when she was about to cross the kitchen door, it closed magically with a loud bang that startled Misty and Madison, make them jump a bit. Raleigh kept eating as if she didn't notice and the young girl huffed annoyed before turning around to look at Misty.

“So funny, did you want to play a prank on me?” she put down the bowl and the glass in the table again, confronting the confused witch. “Because I'm not taking any bullshit, swampy.”

“I don't know what're you talkin’ about,” Misty tensed to that, ready to fight back even when she was very much confused for what did just happened.

“Don't play the idiot, I know it was you,” she got closer to Misty and then the window did just the same as the door, but it didn't close just loud banged against the frame. “Stop or-”

“It was me,” Raleigh stopped the incoming fight without even lift her eyes from her food. Madison and Misty turned around, puzzled, to look at the other woman. “And don't ever talk to Misty like that or I'll slap the shit out of you,” the warning behind her words was enough to make Madison step back and look wherever except to Raleigh, who pulled the chair where she was sat previously and invite her to take a sit again. “Now sit, explain what the fuck is going on with you and eat.”

Both blondes looked at each other for a second and Misty knew, deep inside her, that she got caught in one of those moments she missed when they were all in the Academy. A moment were Raleigh wasn't being this entity she clashed with and instead was taking in her hands a real problem. She had heard from Zoe and Queenie - and from Cordelia, when she was tired and nostalgia made her feel overwhelmed - how Raleigh was capable to be a good mentor if she put her mind into it, but with everything that came with her returning, she wasn't believing it if she was being honest.

To see Madison obey after a couple of minutes, at least in the ‘taking a sit’ part, was truly something else. Misty stood by the counter, leaning back again since she didn’t want to leave both alone. Cordelia told her in the privacy of their room if she could manage to ‘take care’ of them an extra bit more than the rest.

“Nothing’s going…” she was got quiet for a second, taping her fingers against the glass softly. “...that’s the problem, I think,” Madison tried to avoid visual contact and Raleigh let her that, waiting for her to keep talking. “I’m not going to be an actress anymore.”

Raleigh scrunched up her nose a bit with that soft whisper. She always wanted to ask her if she actually thought of herself as that, so at least her curiosity was fulfilled somehow. Maybe not in the good way but well.

“I can’t feel my magic anymore…” even as a trembling statement, it came with the determination of someone that was coming into terms with themselves. And that was a very brave thing to do.

“I couldn’t neither right when I came back,” Misty raised her voice shyly and Raleigh put the last of her burger in her mouth, as if she just wanted to listen to them talking. “It took me months to be able to bloom a flower, everythin’ used to die under my touch.”

“I bet screwing Cordy sped up the process,” there wasn’t malice behind the comment, it was just a simple ‘messing around’ type of comment that was welcomed by the other witch.

“Actually it made it worse,” a soft chuckle that made Raleigh sip her milkshake while looking at her food so she didn’t have to see how her face was blushing lightly. “Dee has too much magic and it kinda suck whatever I had left, so it got to the point where she had to make me potions to fix my ‘magic flow’.”

Madison actually chuckled at that and eased the tension in the kitchen. She was telling them her worries, but not talking about them. Raleigh was still glad that she could address her problems at least, it was easier for her to pick up more details. However, she wanted to counterattack the most immediate one: Madison's eating habits. If that wasn't taking cared of, the other problems wouldn't even exists.

“That's why you aren't eating?” direct, Raleigh bit down half nugget and looked at her. Madison still refused to look anywhere else than her vanilla milkshake. “Are you too worried about not being a famous witch actress to even eat?”

Crossing the line she knew was there, the tension was up again. Raleigh caught Misty putting a confused face and when she looked directly at Madison, the girl was looking at her lap with serious face. She had spent three years buried in a ditch, waiting to heal; she could spend all the necessary minutes to let Madison explain herself. Silence overtook them yet again but it didn't stop Raleigh to keep having her meal. Lifting her eyes from the plate, she made visual contact with Misty for a second and it felt as if they never were giving this stupid ‘silent treatment’ to each other. It only took Raleigh a tiny gesture with her fingers to make the other witch round the table to stand by her side.

Circling her thighs with an arm as sweet gesture and then resting her hand up in Misty's lower back, Raleigh sighed a bit. That was something at least. Misty left her glass in the table to take some fries with one hand and her free rested over Raleigh's shoulders naturally. As if it was the most natural thing.

“It's just…like last time,” Madison mumbled, frowning slightly. “I can't feel anything, I don't know what else to do…if I try to eat, it taste like ashes and then my stomach gets upset and then I have to, you know,” she didn't say the word but she motioned with her hand making it obvious. When Raleigh nor Misty didn't said a thing, she chuckled darkly and shook her head. “This is why I didn't want to talk, you think I'm crazy.”

“Not at all,” Raleigh took the lead again, wiping her fingers in the napkin in front of her before placing her free hand between Madison's shoulder blades. “Look cupcake, and this comes from someone that is allegedly batshit crazy, you are not,” it was then when her hand rested in Madison's nape that she actually looked at her in the eyes. The big word made the youngest giggle. “And we are here for you. We will figure something out to help you, but you have to let us.”

Upon looking up to the two women in front of her, Madison felt her chest tight. They weren't patronizing her, they were just worried about her. Misty had a half smile on, as if she was encouraging her to keep going and take the words to her heart, with this spark in her eyes she lacked when they were at the Academy before the Seven Wonders; Raleigh was looking at her with maybe tenderness? It was hard to discern thanks to the terrible and scary scar that crossed her face took over any other emotion, but her hand not leaving its place at her nape was enough to reassure her of it.

What a weird feeling was that of feeling taken care of.

Tears pushed for freedom, but Madison held them in by just closing her eyes a second. Deep inside she knew it wasn’t necessary for her to reply at what Raleigh said, so she took that opportunity to just take the glass to her lips and finally sip at the vanilla milkshake. With her eyes closed, trying to pick the sweet flavour over the ashes one, Madison couldn’t notice how Raleigh seemed at ease with that gesture while Misty looked troubled for letting her drink when she didn’t know what spell the other woman had put in the beverage.

“I didn’t want to sound pushy,” it was a muttered unspoken apology while Raleigh withdrew her hand from Madison’s nape when the humidity and the heat started to become too much for her to keep touching her, skin to skin. “I’ll be happy if you drink at least half of that milkshake, or just a few more sips, whatever you feel like, okay?”

Madison nodded and Misty could see how something was worrying her by the way she had her eyes were fixated in her lap. She wasn’t a really patient person - the only bit of patience she had was when it came to use her green magic, and even then she still specially wasn’t - so the only thing to ease her nerves came in the form of stuffing a few french fries in her mouth. She couldn’t help but wonder how Raleigh managed to keep her cool that well, but again she realized she still had too much to learn about the woman’s true persona. Feeling her, however, with her hand resting in the small of her back, was a good start. It was also the first time they actually ‘touch’ since Raleigh came back, the first time they were kind of exchanging more than pained and angry glances - which were coming mostly from Misty’s side.

Each too busy inside their own heads, they didn’t expected what Madison did next.

For Raleigh was really strange to feel someone wanting to be that close to her, but she once let Zoe did the same several years ago. Madison wasn’t heavy, not at all, so it wasn’t something uncomfortable having her sitting in her right leg like a child. None of them said something but Misty’s grip tightened softly in Raleigh’s shoulder when the latter looked up to her, watching how the girl was dividing a chicken nugget with her fingers and nibbling at it. They were lucky the kitchen door was closed, because they made a really odd picture just eating in silence there, the three of them, as if they were the only ones.

“If any of you say something about this, I’m going to run over you two with my car,” Madison mumbled that as a warning after sipping her drink once again.

Raleigh couldn’t help but chuckle at that, giving her a few pats in her back, while Misty huffed in defeat before separate herself from the other two to refill her glass of iced tea. That was the old Madison trying to speak through the new one, making everything sound totally different than she intended. Not that the other two would actually say something, Misty considering if telling Cordelia was the right choice after the problem was ‘fixed’ at it seemed.

They fell again in another comfortable silence, only interrupted by the soft clinks from the plates and glasses, as they keep eating. Madison managed to get through two chicken nuggets, four french fries and a quarter of milkshake before standing up from Raleigh’s leg, who finished off the rest of the food as if she was starving. The girl waved goodbye awkwardly to the other two and when they were sure she was far away from the kitchen, Raleigh sighed loudly before standing up to clean.

“What did’ya put in her drink?”

Misty turned around to watch Raleigh doing the simple task. They never got to be like that, such domestic setting.

“Why would I?” Raleigh shrugged with tiredness overcoming her voice, the hot water making her start to sweat again slightly.

“I don’t know,” there was something in Misty’s voice that sounded like a mix of fear and anger. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on in your head.”

Anymore. Both listened the silent word even when it wasn’t said at all. But that didn’t stop Raleigh to finish the task, drying her hands in a cloth. She didn’t want to look at the Cajun witch and face the confusion nor the anger, not right now when she spent the last bits of energy in trying to make Madison feel better.

“Do you know what’s vanilla used for?”

“What’s with that-“

“Appetite-inducing effect, or that they say, it was a risky move to do since I read that can be the opposite however,” before she could keep talking, Raleigh interrupted her. That was one of the things she used to hate of her, how she seemed to work in another plane of existence where she didn’t have to wait for anyone to give her an answer. “Even if it’s not the real thing what the milkshakes have, it still something,” another shrug, as if she was considering the options floating in her head. “I just busted it up with a couple spells. If she had upset stomach, it would do her some good, but I also did another one so the food stay where it has to stay just in case.”

Puzzled, Misty stood there speechless. Raleigh placed the extra order of chicken nuggets somewhere visible so when the other residents of the house came in time for dinner, they could find it easily. As much as she hated how smartass the other woman was at times, it also attracted her that side of her. Cordelia was a bit like that too, but in a different way, a softer one at least.

Patting her shoulder awkwardly, Raleigh took that as her cue to leave the kitchen. Too much interaction for her like in just one day, she was going to take the current book she was reading and find a silent shadow-y spot in the backyard to read until dinner.

Yet still, she stopped before crossing the door.

“Misty?” her name was strange to her lips, used to call for her using her designated nicknames in the past. It would take a while to get used to the new situation. “You should talk to Cordelia about this once she’s back, she is the potioncraft genius after all,” another soft laugh falling from Raleigh’s lips that warmed Misty a bit. “Spells doesn’t last much, I’m afraid.”

After that, the Academy fell again in its day routine. It wasn’t the time yet to discuss or dwell in the past. Everything had to start flowing again, slowly but surely, so the right time could come.

Until dinner time, each of the ‘adults’ in the house occupied themselves in diverse stuff. Queenie had fallen asleep to her show after finishing her burger; Madison kinda took a nap too with her earphones on and blocking the sound of the chattering in the halls and rooms; Raleigh finished her book within a couple hours, keeping herself in the backyard enjoying the silence; and Misty tried to keep an eye on the girls before going to their private collection of books to pick up some of Cordelia's notebooks about botanic.

But when the time arrived, their resident voodoo witch gathered them all outside the kitchen back door just to witness the said battle royale from before. Misty actually placed a bet in the end - “one of the oldies gonna hit a youngie in their way” - and they waited patiently for it to happen. Mallory was the first one to appear for dinnertime and she completely ignored the junk food, but when the rest of the students came in that was a battlefield. After a few minutes they caught a youngling teleporting without the rest noticing, the full chicken nugget container in her hands.

“Shit girl, that's not fair,” Queenie complained jokingly along Madison's annoyed huff. “You're using your power to win.”

“I don't know what are you talking about sister,” Raleigh laughed openly, gesturing them with her fingers to hand over the cash from the bet. “I was this lucky before you were born; now hand the money my good witches, mama has to buy a laptop.”

The three witches looked at the oldest of them with something similar to awe, maybe because they didn't see her that relaxed in forever.

Although they still missed how her eyes didn't spark with that happiness she seemed to feel.

[keyenuta]

Rosegarden kiddos character sheet

Name: Umber Rose Pine

Age: 17

Height: 5/7

Aura color: shamrock green

Appearance(physical): He is a boy in his late teens with brown tanned skin and an assortment of freckles peppered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks. He possesses heterochromia eyes, his right being avocado in color whilst his left is silver. Resting atop his head are messy locks of black/brown hair which transition into a red rose type of color.  His body (and especially his eyes), naturally show off a large amount of energy, joy, creativity and a general love for life. Body type is lanky but surprisingly athletic in shape and form.

Symbol: it's an axe that's styled in a Celtic knot with a few thorns circling it

Clothing: sitting atop his head and tangled within the bush he calls hair, sits a dark green pair of rectangular goggles. Beneath this is an unbuttoned hoodie with rolled up sleeves and a black color scheme with metallic green lining, accents, and designs. Underneath this is a red and black flannel shirt which edges out from the upper top.

Tied diagonally over his chest is a light brown belt and holster which holds dust cartridges and sheaths his axe. Hanging against his dark ashy brown cargo pants are two black suspenders. He wears a pair of black and brown steel toe boots.

Ajacronus: is Umber's signature weapon which is a culmination of multiple others to be used in a variety of situations, and was made this way to be both versatile and a way to stave off his hunger for creation for a time. Beyond being an axe, this weapon is able to be a sort of flamethrower, rifle, and halberd. It is a one sided axe with a spike at it's back as a metallic point sticks out, acting as both the exit barrel for his ammo as well as the point for the halberd. Going down from the blade is the segmented metallic shaft for the axe as it allows for the weapon to transition to the current use of the weapon. The weapon in and of itself is a metallic black and green as in the axe head it's mostly black with the edges themselves being green.

Fun fact

-someway somehow whenever he is bored he will be fiddling with a new idea or creation in his hand

Semblance: His semblance allows him to manipulate and enhance plant life and the nature around himself.  Say he's holding a fallen branch, with the use of his semblance. He can enhance the branch into say a whip or he can flash grow it in an instant as it rockets out growing at a breakneck pace. Thanks to how his semblance works he often houses a good amount seeds within his spare pockets and pouches, as when he throws or drops them to the ground he can make them flash grow thanks to his semblance affecting them, as he can make a set of seeds grow into a tangling rose bush which is at his command of so needed.  

Personality: he is an explosive and imaginative person with energy busting out the seams. He is very playful, excitable, fun loving, and tends to go with the flow and wings stuff most of the time. Often preferring to have a good amount of freedom and space to do things. He's much better when he thinks on his feet in most situations, he is a reactive but brilliant person who loves to innovate and solve problems on the fly due to him preferring to keep his feet close to the fire in most cases. He is freedom loving and tends to go to the beat of his own drum in both demeanor, actions and personality. To most he is strange and eccentric, often to imaginative and creative for comfort as he is a person who is the epitome of ask questions later, something needs to be done now. Though with this, he is not dumb nor is he short sighted, his is just abstract if you were to to pin it down. He is a caring and kind boy who loves to watch things grow and live their full lives. This and the chance to learn so many things is what drove him to be a huntsman beyond just his parents being ones as well. He wants to make sure everyone is able to grow and blossom to their fullest extent without worry of being uprooted and lost forever. This is why his semblance became what it is, he is a supporter and enhancer of growth and progression. Abd to summarize he is a freedom loving, energetic, abstract, knowledge seeking, creative lover of life and the people within it. And of he can be someone's supporter and guardian that's all the better, whether it be through a creation of his or just by him being himself he is a lover of life above all else. Though fun fact, at times he can be sort of mechanical as when during certain moments he's more of a machine than a person as he often has trouble with people from time to time. He is despite being a carefree person very stressed, he knows the danger of the world and he knows that he has eyes on him, especially that of his kittkevsistee. And while hr is very thankful for her to be going down her own path, he's scared about messing up in front of her, to accidentally harm his kid sister just because he was too lax, or carefree or just did a stupid thing that turned out good. He doesn't want to mess up above all else, he doesn't want to squander all the good that he's seen just because of his mistakes

Signature weapon:

Fun Fact: he has the nickname mossy thanks to his love of green and because it's one of the nicknames that stuck from Aster

-he often fixes, upgrades and edits other people's weapons or tools if they ask him to. It's a good source of income and a way to learn from other designs as well as improve his own craftsmanship.

-if you were to look in his room he will be submerged in a wave of books he has read or will be reading soon, he's addicted to books, and knowledge in general for that matter.

Fighting style: he is a playful and energetic fighter who loves the adrenaline of combat as he is often lost within the deadly dance of combat as he wings his way through a battle, he enjoys and becomes one with the fight as he becomes playful and even more unpredictable a free in his style. Whike free and seemingly wild and without form, his craziness is tempered by an intellectual mind as he goes throughout a battle, he is a reckless and chaotic fighter but he's not dumb and knows when to ease back, and think. Well that is the case most of the time I should say. Overall he as a combatant is chaotic, unpredictable, energetic, but surprisingly calculated and thought put despite his go with the flow and learn as you go approach.

-him and his mother fanboy and girl over all sorts of weapons as they often have lengthy discussions about them as their husband and sister try to make sure the two don't go overboard

-despite being a fanatic for sweets he has a love of sour things as well. Not nearly on the level of sweets mind you, but he enjoys sour things a lot

-He has a scent of a forest and a piece of metal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Name: Aster Pine Rose

Age: 15

Height: ⅝

Aura color: wine red

Appearance(physical):  She is a girl in her mind teens with alabaster skin peppered with an assortment of freckles across each cheek. Her hair is short and a bit curly as it stops at the beginning of her neck. Her hair is colored aster red as it fades into black/brown tips. Her facial structure is round which gave her the nickname strawberry thanks to that at the freckles on her face. Her eyes are mostly emerald but housed inside the green iris is a purple color which when angered takes over the emerald in pointed calculated anger. Her body is mostly toned and balanced. Not to much meat and not too thin, she's just in the middle.

Clothing:  she is normally seen wearing a white dress shirt with a wool double breasted wine red blazer with black lining and accents. Wrapped around her waist or midsection is a black belt with a silver buckle. Beneath the blazer and the belt is a mid thigh length navy blue combat skirt with a black accent. As running up her legs are black stockings which lead into her black and red combat boots which look similar to ruby's own pair in the past.

Symbol: her symbol is a mending stone heart wrapped in rose thorns

Personality: she is a rather calm, level headed and at times childish person from time to time. Unlike her older brother she tends to be more, reserved and less open to an extent. She has a calming attitude and a quick wit to those who disrespect her or her brother. She tends to prefer more peaceful and laid back about most situations. She is inquisitive and curious of many things but knows when and where to hold back and think things through. She is a meticulous person in battle and in life, but when able to she will cut loose and join the chaos.  She is really prideful and will make sure you know she has reason to be so. She always acts like she has something prove and will jump at the chance to show it. Like her brother she is a lover of knowledge and will often join her brothers sea of books. If you were to describe her, I would say caring strong but also insecure. She is strong in demeanor, personality, and beliefs. But beneath it she is always second guessing herself, making her good trait, (being meticulous snd careful) into one that's a conference as it causes her to be slow, late, and too thorough to the point of near obsession. She feels as if she had a lot if weight on her shoulders and that she has to live up to her parents somehow. She wants to be the best she can be so that her parents will be proud of her. And I mean they are.  They love her and her brother so much but in her eyes she hasn't met those expectations and just piles on more and more weight on herself. She often sees her brother and wishes sometimes that they could trade places. She sees him being so free and unstressed that she would love to see the world through his eyes if only for a day. The reason she was driben to becoming a huntress is because she wabts her parents and big brother to be proud of her and it's because like her semblance, she wants to fix the world and repair it as best she can. To help fix someone else's life so they can be at peace. And it's that want for both that drives her along.

Semblance: her semblance allows her to repair things to their original states.  The only limit being distance and touch. She has to have touched a piece of the broken object to begin restoring it. And when she does she has a set distance before her field of control is at its limit.  Oh, and she cannot repair herself.

Signature weapon:

Wilted rose- her signature weapon is a simple cane sword with scythe housed at tge bottom of the shaft. The cane in itself his made of a black wood with wine red accents and designs as on the blades themselves are colored black and rose red. She surprisingly prefers more traditional weapons as she fights with a piece of the cane in each hand.

Fighting style: she fights in a calculated and graceful manner, her movements are quick, precise, and similar to that of a dance. All through a battle Aster fights as of sge us in a grand ball and she is a master dancer, shevis fluid and measured, she has and will  follow the beat of the battle as she navigates through with expert timing and planning.

Fun fact: her favorite colors are violet and rose red

-Fun fact: she is literally just an inch taller than Umber and she will mess with him about it all the time

-She also loves to plant, farm, and garden with her father.

-she's currently learning how to bake and cook from her dad

-she is a sweet demon like her brother and hates sour or tart things. Like an has a mini gag reflex in some cases, so whenever she has anything like that she and her brother negotiate sweets. While most people may think ‘ok they're just gonna have a regular conversation.’ They treat this like they're discussing peace accords and are doinf a back alley deal. It is hilarious how seriously they treat sweets.

-She fights like a mix between a dancer and fencer

-She loves to do ballet funnily enough

@littlemisssquiggles

[bakingupastorm]

Those thoughts have been happening again, the ones about her just letting loose for a day or two and blimping up like crazy. So much so that she’s been sleep baking, subconsciously creating a surplus for her to snack on when she takes a short holiday and closes up shop.

This has been going on for a few weeks now, requiring her to go out and purchase more ingredients and store her creations in a small stasis zone she has. It takes energy from her every day, but it’s worth it when one needs to stockpile or delay an order and keep them fresh. Time magic could be tricky sometimes and a little draining, so it explained her need for the extra coffee in the morning.

At last, the day came when she could release that stasis, close up shop for a little vacation. Of course, it’s a stay in sort of vacation, with the blinds drawn and the door locked, but either way, it’s been a building need for a good bit of time that’s now going to be indulged. The first time she was teased on being a behemoth blubberbutt... she’s found herself somewhat addicted to it. She’s still refusing to stick to it in her day to day, and would still struggle to do so thanks to her powers, but these bursts of enjoyment... she’s really loving them. Today was the day she’d surpass her usually set limit when experimenting. That hard limit was set before so she wouldn’t overdo it, but she had the confidence that she could slim back down with a combination of a few things. From her creations meant to help slim her down, to burning some through use along with a telekinetic spell to be able to funnel the treats in when she became much too large to reach with her bulked up arms.. she was ready. It also helped that she sent in all of the chairs and tables in for cleaning and repairs, leaving the bulk of the front completely open outside of a few things she purchased specifically for this.

Clad in something rather small, she also planned ahead with several articles of clothing to shear through as time went on. Of course, she only went up to around her size that she stopped herself at, so once she surpassed that, she’d be out of luck, but that was fine. Taking her first bite into an eclair, there was a pleasured groan that flew freely in the privacy of her bakery. “Mmh... I know it’s going to sound bad... but I’ve really made one heck of a pastry~” There’s a lot of pride in her tone. She’s improved herself quite a bit since she was a child, and that’s something she’ll always be doing if she can help it. Once the bite settled into her stomach, a loud *GGRRRRRRGGGLLLLLLL* echoed, signalling the hunger tuning up from her enchantment. Cramming the rest of the treat down her gullet, it would soon be chased down with some of her other creations outside of her sweets department. Sure, that’s her specialty, but it’d be good to try her whole menu of pastas, meats, and veggie dishes to see how they compare. That’s where she knows she has a lot of work to do to compare to some of the chefs she’s met, but that’s not going to get her down. It’s all about indulging to the fullest, slurping down noodles and gobbling down like a starved carnivore, not paying any mind to the splattering that’s going to be happening on her face and shirt. It’s even less cared about on the shirt because it was meant to be torn! Speaking of which, as she’s cramming everything down her gullet so hastily and desperately, it won’t take too long for a food baby to start appearing on her middle, making that already tight top start to rise. That breeze around her tightening flesh was cause to moan, the cool air tickling as she grunted and downed a large bowl of homemade ramen, the broth trickling down her chin. The secondary effect of the initial eclair soon started to kick in, taking the mounting fullness and spreading it across her figure. Those tight leggings she chose to start with already tearing as her thighs thickened, wobbling as pure blubber billowed out. Her broth covered chin found a twin in a matter of moments and it too bathed in the hearty liquid. The bowl being clunked down there came a HWOOOORRRRRPPPP from the glutting girl. A grin came to her face as she delivered a meaty slap to her gut, letting it jiggle from the impact, but rang surprisingly hollow in spite of all that she’s consumed thus far. “And to think... this is only the start... I’m going to end up so heavy~” That telling blush, the lust apparent in her voice as she resumed her feasting, yet to resort to magic to fill herself. That would come in the second course... which if she were being honest, the rest of the courses after this would be filled with next to nothing but sweets. It’s a good thing she’s got a fairly good sweet tooth!

Round one came to a close after nearly an hour, and a solid thirty pounds found their way to her formerly lithe figure. The small clothes she picked out were tattered at best, the leggings completely shorn through by her butt and thighs alone. Standing up from her seat, she had to admire her gain thus far. “And that was the easy round. An appetizer for the hundreds each one after this is going to add! I’m still under two hundred right now... but I’m thinking I should go ahead and put my three hundred set on and grow into them, then out of them!” Grunting in effort from having to pull off the vestiges of her top, she lets her bosom flop out, still not as grand as some people she knew, but they happened to take some hit bumping her up a cup size or so. Once again, it’s not a concern, she knows she’s a bottom heavy gal and that butt of hers is looking rather nice already. Flipping through the pile of clothing, she pulls out a rather large bathing suit and blushes. “Summertime whale... here I come.” She can’t even believe she said that, let alone bought this sky blue bikini meant for a woman thrice her size! Or... maybe roughly double her size now. “And summer means pie... and ice cream, of course~” Pulling it on as best she can, she has to hold it up before she sat back down, a second eclair in hand while the aforementioned next set danced towards her. Perhaps that bikini top will take a while longer to fit than the bottoms, but they’ll both be too tiny before too long~

The second of the batch was devoured, a few seconds tick by before her gut grumbling symbolized the bell being rung for round two. Off she went, her hands cramming slice after slice of pie into her mouth, all of them enchanted with her fattening in mind while the ice cream was melted enough for her to chug, the magic hands she conjured floating the containers to her mouth for her to guzzle by the gallon full between each pie. The cacophony of flavour ravaged her tongue and sent her through a tizzy of tastes. Her bloating butt steadily took more room in her chair, slowly filling the confines of the bottoms she picked up. On occasion, a magic hand helps to adjust the articles for the sake of comfort as she slowly filled them with her blubber. There was no hiding just how elated she felt, squeals of delight flooded the room along with her chomping and gulping. It felt so damnably good to feel herself fatten up like she had given so many others in the past. If she were to choose, she’d still side with giving others the blubber, and that’s not something that would likely ever change, but days like this... hoo boy~ Her eyes flicked over to a separate chair once the one she was situated in started to creak and brought over the second to help bear the burden of her bulk. They’d both end in splinters, but let them last for a little longer...

A couple hours passed, pie crumbs and filling strewn about her face, coating her chubby cheeks and trio of chins, fusing with the sticky ice cream that coated it as well. The bikini top fit perfectly now, good thing she opted for the expanded band but smaller cups option. The bottoms, on the other hand, dug deep into her hip flesh, riding up into her bottom cheeks somewhat. The gurglings of digestion could be heard from her middle, the magic having worn off and left her in a somewhat filled state. Seems she didn’t consume fast enough to fit everything within that window and had to press on without the added buff. Still, with the hiccups and belches, Claire is grinning like a mad woman as she takes in her bloated figure. A guess would put her at just a little over three hundred pounds and well over halfway to her usual stopping point. Hands knead the folds of her belly like dough, sensual moans now fill the room as she takes a moment to appreciate all of this. It takes a considerable amount of effort to heave up from her bending chairs, clearly she sprung for shoddy ones to start with. Over to a mirror she had set, it gives her a clear view of her ample ass. Staring at it, stars filled her eyes as she gave it a resounding smack. “Look at what you did to yourself, you pig...~” She has it bad for this.

“Ooh... okay... it’s time for the doughnuts. Then the cupcakes and muffins... which should get me over five hundred, and finishing off with a cake.” That towering cake was teasing her. Every layer a different flavour and bonus enchantment, with the bottom of it ready to really pack on the flab. Staring at it, she felt entranced, her tongue lapping over her stained lips. “It looks so tempting... But it’s meant for the finale.” Snapping herself out of it, her hand moved without her thinking to cram in the third and fourth eclair, mixing in the two rounds so she could reach that decadent dessert faster. The resulting hunger hit like a freight train, forgetting to try to place her next article of clothing that would bridge her to the big five hundred and instead leaning on the table and funneling everything else on there into her greedy maw as swift as she can, her magic in force to aid it. Every bite led to an impact on her figure, those bottoms not lasting long in this assault as fat was oozing onto her hips and buns at an astounding rate, her love handles spilling over the edge of the table and her wobbly thighs jiggling as she moved her lard filled legs in excitement. Her hammy arms had a jiggle problem of their own. There’s nothing but pure gluttonous bliss from the expanding baker, the creaking of the furnishing beneath her only pushing her over that edge further. The only thing missing was kneading her own mass while she ate, but she was much too busy in filling herself that she’d be unable to manage that at the moment. That, and the teasing... but once again, she couldn’t let that stop her. Dozens upon dozens of doughy pastries added themselves to her form, the flavour still being appreciated, but the results are where she’s really getting her love at the moment. The table’s legs on the half she was leaning on snapped, but that only made things easier as she let gravity assist in pulling things towards her maw, her magic helping to grind it down and funnel it in further. It was hardly an expenditure with how much fuel is falling into her right now. To make it complete, as soon as the last morsel found its way home, Claire pulled herself up the table and forced the other half’s legs to give up, just as her swimwear did a very long while ago. Now, here she was, sweating and panting like crazy, left with nothing on as her wide body swelled just a bit further with what she’s eaten. Her hands are quick to start roaming, groping and squeezing, shaking and appreciating what has piled on. “I’m... so... faaaaaaat~ Is... is this how everyone I help feed feels?” Yeah, this was definitely a good idea. Unfortunately, she’s starting to feel rather tired, and while that cake is calling her name... maybe she should save it for tomorrow and just revel in what she has now. After all, she has a week off! With her arcane hands moving it to a small container, it would be placed in a tiny stasis field, only burning through a tiny bit of her lard to do so. “Hahhhhh.... that’s going to taste great... and make me feel even better~”

[margarethelstone]

That Hopelessness of Mine

She was weary, she was sick, she was completely unable to focus. She, the Astrid Hofferson, the most hard-working student the University of Berk had ever taught, suddenly appeared to be perfectly indifferent to what was happening around her. Her life was an utter mess – and a ridiculously handsome, green-eyed stranger was the last person she needed to meet.” Hiccstrid modern AU.

fanfiction.net / AO3

She had told Ruffnut she would need three minutes to cover the distance separating her from her flat.

She did it in one.

One feverish minute of sprinting in the snow, trying to fight the embarrassment that spread over her like a plague, hoping against hope that the considerate – and way too handsome for his own good – stranger would forget about this entire situation by the time she got to the threshold.

Her cheeks were flushed red like never before, and she couldn’t even pretend it was the cold or exercise that had caused it.

Astrid sighed heavily as she tapped the right code on the intercom and pushed the door open, all while doing her best not to sit down on the floor right then and there and curl up in resignation – and then she sighed again, looking up the high staircase, seeing all the steps she still needed to climb.

Life definitely wasn’t fair.

Refraining from the third sigh in a row, she approached the staircase and without further delay, she resumed her run, because again, even this exhausted, she did not feel like staying away from her own room any longer than it was necessary.

She just wanted to get inside at last.

‘And when I do,’ she mused to herself as she went up another floor, finally nearing her own little place of solace, ‘it’s all about myself. A hot shower, a cup of hot tea and a warm bed… and silence. Lovely, cosy, undisturbed silence.’

Yes, she was actually happy Heather wasn’t there for the evening.

And as she stood in front of her door, rummaging through her purse and trying hard not to think about the very green eyes of the young man who’d helped her with its content less than a quarter earlier – nor about the awkwardness she still felt at the remembrance of her own childish behaviour – she also recalled her other girl friend. Astrid had promised Ruffnut she would call her as soon as she got inside, and her unexpected stop at the pavement must have doubled the time she usually needed to get there; she would not be surprised to see about ten missed calls and four messages from Ruff as soon as she unlocked her phone.

Which she did. And the numbers were precisely like she had jokingly assumed.

“At least one person cares,” the blonde muttered with a smile, shaking her head at her best friend’s overprotectiveness – and then froze, remembering the kindness of the man she was trying so hard to forget.

It didn’t even matter it was him. What mattered was the fact, that there was someone else, someone she didn’t know, but who still was kind enough to stop by and help a person, only because he thought she could use it.

Maybe there really was more good in this world that she’d thought?

Her grin widened a little at the realisation. Still, there was no point in pondering over it on the dim, empty staircase, which only threatened to bring back her feelings of loneliness if she stayed there any longer. Not ceasing to smile, Astrid slid her phone back into her pocket, turned the key and let herself in through the unlocked, heavy door – and slammed it behind her eagerly.

Lonely or not, it was good to be home again.

Without much thinking, she tossed her bag on the nearest chair and headed to the bathroom, for the first time in her life wondering why on earth didn’t they have a bathtub. The reasonable part of her could immediately give her a whole list of reasons, yet right now, reason was the very last thing Astrid was interested in, while the thought of submerging herself in hot, steamy water was the most tempting option of all.

Still, the reality would not change because of her whims, and so wouldn’t the equipment of their small, shared apartment. The best Astrid could do was to use what she had to the fullest – and that was exactly what she was planning to do.

She resolved to change her tactics a little then, and left the bathroom, heading towards the kitchen instead. Her fingers hovered over her phone screen as she tried to dial Ruffnut’s number, simultaneously hesitating whether she should even try to call the girl when she was officially still in class… when her own phone vibrated in her hand, announcing the call from the friend in question herself.

Astrid couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Alright, I know what you’re gonna say,” she threw in carelessly after answering the phone. “Ten missed calls and four unread messages, you were sure I had died a terrible death on my way here. Well, I didn’t. I’m home, and I’m safe. And my lousy butt is still in place.”

“It better be!” She heard Ruffnut hiss on the other side of the phone. “And you owe me big time for sneaking out from that stupid marketing class to make sure you’re okay! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been sitting on this bloody corridor?”

“You almost sound as if you preferred to stay inside,” Astrid teased back mercilessly, putting the kettle on and searching for her favourite tea. “Come on, it’s not like you were going to listen to Johann anyway.”

“That doesn’t change anything. He can still mark my absence if I don’t come back soon.”

“Well, you better do then.”

“Oh no, not until you excuse yourself and tell me what exactly took you so long to call me.”

Astrid rolled her eyes. “Nothing really, except some snow getting in my eyes and my bag strap falling off. Oh, and there was some ice involved, too.”

“What the heck did you do now, Hofferson?”

“I slipped. And my bag fell on the ground. Well, not in that order precisely, but that’s not even close to the point – either way, I ended up lying on the pavement, with my things all around me. I needed some time to gather them, and even with the little help I got, it still took some – are you grinning?”

Ruffnut did not answer, however, that only confirmed Astrid in her assumption. She slapped her hand against her forehead, and no longer caring for appearances, she groaned. “Why do I even tell you anything?”

“Because you owe me,” Ruff answered cheerfully.

Astrid was ready to swear she could hear her face muscles stretch; she groaned again.

“Yes, you’ve said that already.”

“And still, you’re asking. And I was just wondering what kind of help you got that it took you both so much time to grab those few notebooks of yours. Was the guy as clumsy as you today, or was he just too good looking for you to bid your adieu at once?”

Astrid felt herself blush immediately.

“What?” she asked a little too quickly, cursing the wavering of her voice. “Why would you even assumed it was a guy?”

“Because you’d have already told me if he wasn’t. Duh!”

“Ruffnut!”

“Astrid!” the other girl retorted mockingly. “Okay, so he definitely is a guy and he is handsome enough to make you stutter over your words. That’s perfect. You did give him your number, right?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Astrid cried out, and rubbed her temples, trying to calm herself down again. “I don’t give my number to every guy unlucky enough to meet me on the street, especially not after he saw me lying on the pavement like some pathetic, sobbing child. No matter how kind he is, how handsome he is – I may not have much dignity left, but it’s just enough to stop me from doing anything of this sort.”

Silence fell on the room, while she waited for Ruffnut to respond to her spontaneous little speech. She gritted her teeth and reached for the kettle, ready to pour the water into the awaiting mug.

Her tiredness was back.

“You know,” she heard Ruff speak a moment later. “Judging by the way you speak, that might have been about the dumbest thing you did today. Or ever.”

“This really isn’t helping, you know.”

“This isn’t very comforting, you mean? No. It’s not. But I’ve never been a type to comfort you, you’ve got Heather for that.”

“Ruff, I -”

“Look, Hoff, you really have to stop thinking about what’s proper and for once, do what you feel like doing. Sometimes, at least. Now go get that shower and get yourself to bed before I decide to come over and force you to do it myself.”

Astrid sighed, wanting to smile weakly at least, but finding herself unable to do even this much.

“I will. Thanks,” she mumbled instead, hoping that Ruff would not feel too offended with the way she’d just spoken to her.

“Sure,” the other girl answered, calming her nerves a little with the steadiness of her voice. “Take care, chick.”

Astrid put the device away; she was definitely confused but somehow, she was… glad at the same time. Sure, Ruffnut’s final comment did not make her feel any better – but then again, even with her harsh and direct attitude, Astrid could not miss the attentiveness and true care hidden behind it.

And at this point, she just wanted to appreciate that.

She still wanted a shower, too.

So she headed back to the bathroom, shed her clothes and finally took it – and when she left the cabin, with her hair wet and her skin practically steaming, she was almost willing to admit that, despite the constant turmoil in her soul, there still was some hope left for her.

That was until she came back to her room and took her bag, searching for the book she was supposed to read for her course. The book was there.

But her wallet was not.